


Breathing

by stratumgermanitivum



Category: Glee
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Podfic Welcome, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/pseuds/stratumgermanitivum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of his suicide attempt, David Karofsky has a lot to deal with. He's got an over-protective father, a mother who wants to fix him, and recurring, intense panic attacks. When Sebastian Smythe comes to visit him in the hospital, he chalks it up to a moment of guilt and goes home to sulk. Until Sebastian keeps coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Don't We Just Dance?

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooh boy. So, this is neither my fandom, nor my ship. I loved Glee up until Season 4, when I could no longer ignore the numerous frustrating things, and even when I was 100% on board, I preferred to read about Kurt. Sure, I watched the rest of the series and there were a few things that I still genuinely liked, but for the most part I figured I was done with Glee. And then this idea popped into my head and refused to leave. I've always felt that Karofsky's story line was terribly fumbled, especially given he just disappears after On My Way and returns fully out and confident in season 6, and I've always wanted to see more of his story, so I've spent the past few months writing 36,000+ words of this. It's the longest thing I've ever written. 
> 
> This story starts immediately after On My Way, and can be considered to be mostly canon compliant, with one minor oops that I had to leave in the story and will point out when we get to it. It is fully completed, but I'm posting each chapter after I've edited it first, so there may be a few days between each update. This story contains content that may be triggering for some readers, including but not limited to repeated slightly graphic references to suicide attempts, panic/anxiety attacks, and frequent self-deprecating thoughts. Speaking of which, this fic is written in third person from Dave's perspective, and his thoughts and opinions on characters and events do not reflect my own.

Sebastian looked infinitely out of place in the doorway of his hospital room. Dave shifted, self-conscious. There was a ribbon of bruises around his throat, and the hospital gown was… not flattering on his hefty shape. Immediately after that thought crossed his mind, he felt stupid for thinking it. Vanity was hardly an issue right now.

“What are you doing here?” His throat ached already, sore from the damage and from the conversation with Kurt not an hour before. His voice creaked out of him like a broken staircase. Broken boy. Kurt could give all the pep talks he wanted, Dave was still so ashamed.

Sebastian’s face screwed up, wrinkling around his eyes, like he’d smelled something rancid. “Flowers.” He said vaguely, waving the crumpled bouquet in his hands.

“Flowers.” Dave repeated, confused.

“It’s traditional, isn’t it?” Sebastian crossed the room, thrusting the flowers into his lap. “Don’t get too excited.” He said sharply. “I didn’t go hunting down the perfect color or some bullshit. I actually mugged a little old lady for them on the way in here.”

Well, they smelled good, anyway. All blues and purples, and if Dave had been just a _tiny_ bit more gay he might have brought them all the way up to his face to take in more of the sweet scent. “Well. Thank you for my illegal flowers. Why are you here?”

Sebastian grabbed a chair and dragged it over, straddling it backwards. Because of _course_ he did, Sebastian couldn’t do a damn thing without making it look perfectly indifferent and irreverent, and he _still_ wasn’t explaining his presence, just resting his head on his arms and staring. Dave felt like some sort of awful museum exhibit.

“I guess I’m apologizing, or something.” Sebastian finally said, once he’d gotten his fill of gawking at Dave’s bruises. “Since I guess I put you here.”

“ _I_ put me here.” Dave said, and his voice still shook when he said it, because he had, hadn’t he? He’d tried to kill himself, not that he could even do _that_ right, and he was lucky he still had a voice to say it with. “I could dish it out, but I couldn’t take it.”

Sebastian squirmed a bit in his seat. “Yeah, well I apparently am a little too eager to dish it out myself.” He groaned, dropping his head. “Look, I’ve been told I’m kind of a bitch, and I own that. I’ve cultivated it. I make insulting people an _art form_ , and I don’t really wanna change. But I know… I fucked up with you, okay? And I’m only gonna say this once so listen close. I’m sorry that you got on the wrong side of my complete lack of a filter, and I’m sorry I told you to stay in the closet, and I am _sorry_ that I said you couldn’t get a guy. You’re a total bear, some people are into that sort of thing.”

Dave stared at him for a long moment. “I… Thank you?” He finally rasped out. Sebastian eyed him up, and then nodded.

“Right, ok, that’s over with.” He stood up, shoving the chair back into the corner. “We collected money in your name, by the way. At our performance. Kurt thought you’d want to know.”

And then he left, as out of place as a whirlwind, leaving Dave feeling like he’d missed something.

Dave didn’t hear from him again for nearly two months.  
_____

“Maggie- Maggie will you please just stop and listen- I am _not_ letting you enroll _my son_ in one of those fucked up camps- Then _act_ like his mother!”

Dave closed his door, drowning out the sound of his father’s phone call. Oh how he longed for the days of having a lock, but his father had switched the doorknob out while Dave was in the hospital.

He couldn’t stand to hear them arguing. His dad had been behind him, much to his shock. It had been his mother, his sweet, soft, wonderful mother, who thought he was sick. She was gone before he came home from the hospital, thrown out by his father. They were filing for divorce. Fighting over him and what ‘treatment’ he should get. He was 18, old enough to legally make his own decisions, but apparently his mother wanted power of attorney, given his mental state.

It had been almost two months, and his dad still checked on him when he slept. He was being home schooled, working through the last of his senior year with his father and a rotating cast of college-aged tutors. There was only a little over a month left before he had the option of walking across the stage with his former classmates, or just receiving his diploma in the mail. Dave already knew what he was going to pick. His therapist thought it would be good for him to go back to school, but his therapist was a chick, and from his admittedly limited experience, chicks just didn’t get it. Most guys in Lima thought Santana and Brittany were the sexiest people around. It was okay for girls, especially hot ones. Not so much for chubby football players with thinning hair and clumsy bodies.

It had been so long, and everyone said Dave was getting better, and maybe it was true. He wasn't afraid to go into his closet anymore. His new Facebook page had about four people on it, one of which was his dad. His throat no longer ached when he spoke, and the raspy quality had fully dropped off after the first week or so.

And yet, he didn't _feel_ any better. He felt kind of like a rock, actually, lifeless and dull. He never left his house anymore, unless he was going to therapy or to the grocery store with his dad. He just sat around, listening to music and staring at the walls, and responding to the occassional joint-email from Hummel and his boyfriend. The more he spoke to them, the more he realized they didn’t really have anything in common, and it was probably good that Kurt hadn’t taken him up on his offer to date, but Kurt and Blaine both seemed to think it was their duty to make sure he wasn’t the sole gay person in his own life. Or sole person, period, as the case may be. Whatever. It was something to do, and someone to talk to, even if it was just vague emails with obscure pop culture references he usually had to Google.

And then something happened. On a Friday night, in the infinite loneliness, in between breaking another model plane he’d been trying to build and counting the cracks in the ceiling for the sixty-seventh time, his phone buzzed with a new text message from an unknown number.

_u r missing the hotttest nite out._

Dave stared at it for a second before texting back.

**_Who is this?_ **

_Seb_ Was the immediate response, followed by _Shit, wrong number. Sorry bear cub._

That thought ticked in his mind for a full minute, because _Sebastian Smythe_ could not possibly be texting him.

_**Are you drunk?**_ Not that Dave should have been surprised. Every gay man in the state knew about Sebastian's Scandals habit.

_Fuck yeah its friday why arent U_

_Because I’m not allowed to leave the house without a chaperone._ Dave thought. Instead of admitting to that, he responded **_Because I’m not 21 and don't have anyone to drink with._**

_Laaaaammmeeee._ Dave didn’t dignify that with a response. There were more pressing questions.

_**How did you get my number?** _

_gayface. blanderson’s frigid boytoy._

And then, a few seconds later,

_apparently i ‘lack a stable inffluence in my life’ and he thot we could be frends._

**_I didn’t know you talked to Kurt._ **

_Not if i can help it. but fuck it i dont no anyone else tolerable for longer than a quickie. blanderson and gayface it is_

_**What a wonderful way to talk about your friends.** _

_dont have or need friends, just ppl i can mock and extort coffee from_

Dave rolled his eyes.

_**Goodnight, Sebastian.**_  
_____

Dave saved the number, just in case, but he figured that would be the end of it. And it was, for another two weeks. He didn’t really have time to think about it, between sorting through college mail and getting a few last minute applications in, for places with late deadlines. He was midway through an essay when his phone buzzed across the desk.

“Hello?”

_”Are you being boring again?”_ Somehow, via some strange magic, Sebastian sounded even more pompous when you couldn’t see him smirking. Dave gave his essay a hopeless look; he’d already lost his train of thought.

“Apparently.” He said, closing his laptop. “Are you drinking again?”

_”Would that surprise you? It’s the weekend. I like to have a little fun. You used to have fun.”_

_No, I used to nurse the same beer all night and watch **you** have fun._ “Yeah, well, times changed.”

There was a long pause, broken only by the sound of Scandals frankly awful music choices. _”I apologized.”_ Sebastian finally said, in that quiet voice drunk people usually got right before they started crying or vomiting.

“You did.” Dave said carefully, unsure of how to proceed. “I just… don’t get out much anymore. It’s not you.”

_”You should go out with me.”_ Dave's heart skipped because this is _Sebastian,_ and he knows he's not really anybody's type, especially Sebastian's, but it echoed in his head, burrowed into the back of his mind and lived there. He knew better, though, wasn't surprised when Sebastian corrected himself. _”Not like a date, j-just out. Come out. Drink. Dance. Let loose a little._

“You’re very drunk.”

_”You’re very huge.”_ Sebastian cursed then, a slew of words Dave would never have thought to string together. _”Not like fat, like big. I mean like tall. Broad shoulders. Football type, you know the kind. Damn it just say you’ll come out with me. Next time. Next Friday.”_

“You don’t have to do that.”

Sebastian groaned, loud enough to drown out all the background noise. _”As gayface so helpfully pointed out, I kinda do. It’ll be fun. First round’s on me.”_

“Fine.” Dave surprised himself. He hadn’t had any desire to go back to Scandal’s and be unwanted, but Sebastian sounded so sincere, and he hadn’t actually thought that was physically possible for him. Just once wouldn’t kill him.

Dave flinched. Bad train of thought.

_”Great! You won’t regret it, Killer. See you next week.”_ Sebastian was apparently not one for goodbyes; there was a click, and then silence.

Dave wondered, for a minute, if every encounter with Sebastian was going to leave him feeling like a tornado had just blown through. Then he returned to his essay.  
_____

“Dad.”

Paul Karofsky looked tired. He always looked tired lately. He looked up at Dave, standing with his coat and shoes on, keys in his hands, and stared.

“I’m… I’m going out. I’m meeting with a friend.” Paul’s face twisted up. Before February, Dave had never seen him lose his composure the way he did all the time now.

“Dave, you haven’t left the house-” _Been out of my sight._ Dave’s mind helpfully substituted, “-In weeks.”

“Exactly.” He fidgeted with his keys, staring at the door. He wished he could just bolt for it. “Don’t you think it’s time I got out?”

“David it’s....” His dad checked his watch, “Eight PM.”

“Yeah, but Dad, it’s _Friday._ You used to let me out a lot later than this.”

Paul just looked at him. Dave could see the wheels turning, could see him resisting the urge to say ‘that was before.’ They were supposed to be moving forward instead of dwelling, working towards Dave having a normal, healthy life again.

“Dad…” David Karofsky did not beg. He didn’t plead. He hadn’t _whined_ since he was nine. But his voice pitched up against his will. He couldn’t cancel, not now, not when he was so close to stepping outside of the box he’d trapped himself in.

“You’ll call me. Every hour. Or I’ll call the cops.”

Dave was nodding before he’d even finished. It had to be hard, he figured. It had been hard on him, too, but at least he’d known what was happening, in his head and in his body. His dad didn’t have a clue, he had to live with the not knowing, and Dave didn’t envy him that. “I promise. I’ve gotta go, though, I’m gonna be late.”

There were eyes on his back as he went through the door. There were always eyes on him, lately. He could feel them, even alone in his car. The eyes came in the form of his phone, which he knew would ring before the hour was even up. They lived over his shoulder, waiting for him to snap the thin line of his life again. And when he got to Scandals, the eyes multiplied, scattered across the bar. Dave tucked himself into a corner booth, nursing his single, solitary beer. He didn’t ever want to imagine his Dad’s face if, on the first night he left his house, he ended up dead on the side of the road from drunk driving.

“Hey, Killer.” Sebastian slid into the seat across from him, all lean limbs and predatory smile. It faltered a bit at the sight of the beer. “Really? Beer? Try some Tequila. Live a little, why don’t you?”

“That is in fact, my exact plan for the rest of the night.” He gave Sebastian a slightly sour look, cringing a bit in the back of his mind, in the part that still felt leather around his neck.

“I am _so_ not good at this, ladyboy is gonna kill me.” Well, at least Sebastian seemed to realize he’d stepped in it. Dave rolled his eyes.

“A word of advice? Reminding me repeatedly of the fact that Hummel put you up to this? Really not helping my night.”

“Noted.” Sebastian flashed him a smile, not quite as seductive as he was sure to be using on strangers four shots from now, but still predatory. Still a danger that lingered in the pit of Dave’s stomach. “So, Killer, you’re at least gonna dance, right?”

“Not my name.” Dave took a swig of his beer, letting the cold chill douse its way down his throat. Sebastian always made him uncomfortable, the way he moved, the way he spoke. He got to people. He got under their skin. It was something he was proud of. “And I don’t dance.”

“Then how do you expect to have any fun?” Sebastian leaned across the table, grin quirking up just a bit more at the corners. The truth was that Dave didn’t expect that at all. He was there because Sebastian had asked him, because Kurt had thought it was a good idea, because he was bored, because his therapist thought he was lonely. He was there out of obligation. He was there to pretend things were normal.

Sebastian apparently grew tired of waiting for an answer, standing and tugging at Dave’s wrists. “Come on. I’m devoting my entire evening to you, don’t make it a waste of my time.”

“Have you _seen_ me?” Dave blurted out as he was dragged to his feet. “I’m not the dancing type. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you have me, isn’t it?”

“Sebastian I am _not_ dancing.”

“You are _definitely_ dancing.”

It took ten minutes of wheedling and arguing, but somehow, Dave found himself dead center in the middle of the dance floor (because of course, Sebastian couldn’t resist the temptation to have everyone’s eyes on him), awkwardly swaying while Sebastian _moved._ He was slim where Dave… wasn’t. Flexible in ways that had never occurred to Dave. He rocked and moved and twisted until all the eyes that followed Dave had turned to him instead. And he didn’t settle for that.

“Come on, Davey-boy, you have to move. This is why you should drink more.” Easy for Sebastian to say, when he always had a designated driver just a phone call away.

“Not all of us have big brother to come dig us out of messes.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, and then suddenly he was _right there,_ in Dave’s space, chest to chest, and his hands were pressed against Dave’s hips, and everything had gotten very narrow and small. The last time he’d been this close to a guy… Well, his therapist had helpfully informed him that the next time he kissed someone, he should make sure they actually _wanted_ him to. And that was it, the only time. It didn’t do wonders for his self esteem.

“Don’t talk about my brother when we’re dancing. Kills the mood.” Sebastian twisted a bit, tilted Dave’s hips in his grasp. Dave wasn’t nearly as graceful. He felt clumsy and large as Sebastian guided him through steps that didn’t fit his form. “There, now you’ve got it.”

He didn’t, he really didn’t, but Sebastian flagged down the bartender and swallowed down a shot of something that made his face screw up and squirm, and smiled a little looser, a little calmer. Dave thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to just stand next to him, and relax.

Drunk Sebastian was all words, babble babble babble until Dave thought his throat had to be sore. He talked about anything he could think of, the bar, the music, the men. He talked a _lot_ about the men, and it might have made Dave uncomfortable, except he never made a single move towards any of them. He took his Dave-sitting duties seriously, it seemed. He tried to get Dave in on it, with lewd comments about this man’s ass and that one’s mouth, but that was always where everyone lost Dave.

When he’d kissed Kurt, it had been out of desperation. He was so achingly lonely, and everything about Kurt reminded him of the secret thumping in the back of his mind, screaming to be let out. And it had been stupid, but for a moment he’d thought, maybe, if Kurt knew, he could understand. Somehow, Kurt was okay with his life, and maybe he could fix Dave’s as well. That, of course, had gone over like a lead balloon.

When he’d tried again, he’d gone for a more romantic approach. And even then, his thoughts of Kurt… They’d been vague, fuzzy and rose-tinted around the edges. Dave had seen porn, late at night while the shame crowded his stomach. He had a basic idea of what it was Sebastian got up to in the bathrooms and the backseats of cars. But the idea of himself doing these things… He still hit that wall, the one that screamed in his mother’s voice, all about what the fuck was wrong with him. His therapist was working with him on his coming out. It wasn’t going so well.

The point being, most of what Sebastian said went right through him, nestling back into his mental closet, to be ignored until it became too much again. He just let Sebastian talk, until his words slurred more and more and he looked less like he was dancing and more like he was falling.

“Okay, then.” Dave guided Sebastian to a seat, helping him find his balance. “I think it’s time to call that brother of yours and head home.”

“The night is young, Killer!” Sebastian said, but his eyes were closed and he was starting to tilt to the side in the booth.

“Well, I’ve been here for four hours. I’m going home, and then you won’t have anyone to dance with.”

“Like hell. I could get anyone in this joint.” Still, he was already fishing through his pocket, digging for his phone. Dave, practicing skills he’d learned with Azimio ( _No don’t think about that that still hurts it’s still so sharp it aches_ ) played the part of the good friend, letting Sebastian bitch at him until his brother showed up, and then dragging him bodily out to the car when he got distracted and giggly.

The next week, Sebastian called again. And that was how David Karofsky made his first _real_ friend.


	2. My Best Days Are Ahead Of Me

Dave wasn’t entirely sure what Sebastian got out of their Friday night trips. Dave never had more than the one beer, and weeks in his dancing was still abysmal. Mostly, he just made sure Sebastian didn’t trip over anything or try to walk home. He was also probably a big deterrent from getting laid.

Dave had asked him about it last time, and got an eye roll in return. “What, I need a reason to spend time with my friends now?”

“You don’t have friends. You have conquests.”

Sebastian’s eyes had narrowed and he’d leaned across the table, voice low. “You’re right. I don’t have ‘friends.’ I have one. You. I don’t even spend this much time with Miss Priss and bubble butt.”

“You know, if you could pick one nickname for Kurt and Blaine and stick with it, your conversations would be a lot easier to follow.”

Sebastian eyed him critically. “You’re deflecting.” He finally said with a grin. “You don’t think you have friends!”

Dave… didn’t really have an answer for that. Finally, he managed to spit something out. “Sebastian. We meet once a week so you can get drunk and dance next to me. Not even _with_ me.”

Sebastian waved him off. “And we talk. I told you all about what’s-his-face, the hot biker guy.”

“Yes, _thanks_ for that, I had _just_ managed to forget-”

“And I would listen to your problems, if you ever talked about them.”

“Yes, the wobbling drunk sex addict, perfect, just who I want to give me advice about my childhood trauma.”

Sebastian actually looked a little hurt at that one, but he swallowed it down with a shot of clear liquor. Dave sighed.

“Look, Sebastian. I appreciate that you… I don’t know, feel guilty or something, and you’re trying to make it up to me, but you really don’t have to do this. It’s very clear that this is your thing, not mine. And I’m not gonna hold you back.”

Dave had taken his leave, then. His dad was surprised by how early he was. Paul had trouble sleeping that night with how often he’d checked on him, certain something was wrong, but Dave was actually feeling pretty okay. It had been nice to get out of the house, but he was just trading one numb feeling for another. He didn’t need that.

_____

Sebastian called three days later. Dave had never had that number show up on a Monday before. He stared at it for a long moment before deciding he wanted nothing to do with drunken shenanigans on a school night, home schooled or not. So, when his dad knocked on his door an hour after, he wasn’t prepared. “Your… Your friend is here, Dave.”

Dave's dad looked at him like he knew something, as if there was anything to know, as if Sebastian had any business standing next to him, looking guilty and awkward.

“Door stays open, okay?” Dave had maybe four and a half seconds for the absurdity of that statement to rush through him before his dad was gone, and he had to turn to Sebastian, who clung to the door frame like it was the only port in a storm.

“What are you doing here?”

Sebastian looked distinctly uncomfortable, eyes darting around the room. “Look. I’m kind of an asshole.”

Dave couldn’t help but laugh at that, because if ever there had been an understatement of the century, it was that one. Sebastian glared at him and kept going.

“I’m kind of an asshole and I only asked you out because gayfa- Because _Kurt_ kept harassing me about how 'I owed it to you, and I didn’t have any positive influences in my life, and I needed _friends_ and I can’t just float around Scandals all the time.'”

“All good points.” Dave interjected, smiling at the murderous glare he received.

“ _Anyway_ , my point being that it would probably be nice to have something to do on the nights of the week where I’m not out seducing half the neighborhood, and I might as well spend time with you.”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

“If I say no, you’re going to think I’m lying.”

“If you say no, you _will_ be lying.” Dave pointed out, crossing his arms. “But I don’t have anything better to do.” He gestured to an arm chair and a TV set up on the other side of the room. “You play Halo?”

There was a sassy comment on the tip of Sebastian’s tongue, Dave could see it, but instead he crossed the room and flopped into the arm chair. “Loser buys dinner.”

“We’re going to dinner now?”

Sebastian gave him a _look._ “You and Papa Bear don’t look like the cooking type. And I’m in the mood for french fries.”

“Dad cooks when he’s not worn out.” Dave tugged out the XBox controllers, tossing one to Sebastian. “We’re… We’re both a little run down lately. But if I win, we’re going to Breadstix.”

“This shithole town needs a better restaurant. And a better bar.” Sebastian jabbed viciously at the controller as Dave settled onto the bed and started a round. He was good. Dave was about to compliment him when something sank in.

“How did you find my house?”

_____

Sebastian won, in the end. This was probably better overall, since Dave realized he hadn’t set foot in Breadstix since the disastrous Valentine’s day, and going back with an openly gay guy was probably not going to make him feel all that great. They ended up in the parking lot of a McDonald’s, much to his surprise.

“Didn’t think this would meet your standards.” He said around a mouthful of Big Mac. Sebastian gave him a disgusted look, finishing his McNugget before speaking.

“Sometimes a guy likes a little salt and grease. Close your mouth when you’re eating, I don’t wanna see that.”

Dave made his next few bites as obnoxious as possible before finally obliging him, giving Sebastian a glare when he saw him sneaking his way towards Dave’s fries. “You got your own. Size large.”

“Yeah, and there’s no such thing as too many french fries.” Dave held the box above his head, but in the confines of the car, there weren’t many places he could go. Sebastian leaned over him, snatching a few fries and shoving them in his mouth triumphantly.

They were close. So close that Dave could see the flecks of color in his eyes. It hadn’t occurred to Dave that green eyes could have more than one shade to them.

And then they weren’t close, and he could breathe again, and forget that had ever happened.

_____

The strangest part of it all was that Sebastian kept coming. He showed up nearly every day after school had ended. Dave kind of wondered why these prep school kids seemed to have so much time on their hands, wasn’t Westerville like, two hours away? And yet, like clockwork, Sebastian showed up in his doorway. Half the time he had the game set up before Dave was even ready. They eventually moved on to games with a little more substance. Skyrim wasn’t really made for two players, but they could pass the controller back and forth and rag on each other about stupid decisions.

Spending time with Sebastian was not at all what he’d expected. He’d expected, well, someone like Kurt (And god, the daggers Sebastian had glared at him when he mentioned that). His knowledge of gay men came largely from Family Guy and Hummel himself, not to mention his tiny bow-tied boyfriend. He had kind of thought he was going to have to purchase some fashion mags to entertain Sebastian.

As it turned out, Dave _wasn’t_ a complete failure as a gay man. There were occasional references Sebastian made that he didn’t get, but no more than with any other person. No, the things Sebastian liked were actually pretty similar to what Dave liked. For example, video games where you could kill the shit out of things, fast food (though they had disagreements about what place had the superior fries. Dave preferred Wendy’s, and Sebastian refused to eat anywhere but McDonald’s), and _sports._ Dave had no idea how the hell one played lacrosse, but they had bonded over football. Dalton didn’t have a football team, but Sebastian had played in elementary school.

And he was _funny._ Largely because he was a massive bitch to anyone he came in contact with. The cashier at the restaurant, the gas station attendant, the occasional relative who dared to call while he was with Dave. Dave found himself constantly mouthing apologies to poor, unsuspecting people, but that didn’t mean what Sebastian was saying was any less clever. He seemed to have toned it down, at least. His attacks were less personal, more apt to be aimed at a situation than at the hapless victim. Most people gave him a confused smile, not quite sure if they’d been insulted or not.

They did disagree on _some_ things. Dave was forbidden from picking the music. Ever.

“No!” Sebastian had yelled during their first trip out for food, shuffling through Dave’s iPod with ever-growing frustration. “No, there is no way in hell I’m listening to _country._ ”

“What’s wrong with country?” Sebastian gave him a horrified look and swapped their iPods, something guitar-heavy and loud blaring through the speakers.

“Rednecks in ugly hats singing about booze and pussy. No thanks.”

Dave had choked so hard on his laughter that he’d had to pull over, but he let Sebastian pick what they listened to from there on out.

_____

There was a little more than a week left until graduation, Sebastian was late, and Dave was sideways across his bed, staring up at the ceiling. counting cracks again. _Thirteen fourteen fifteen never gonna walk for his diploma sixteen seventeen mom would be so disappointed eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one._

“Yo, Killer.”

Dave startled, glancing towards the doorway. Sebastian hadn’t hesitated in it in weeks, always coming right in to start shooting at each other. Today. he seemed hunched over, and he finally came to flop sideways across the bed, a foot from Dave, staring at the ceiling. “Well. I have no idea how I pulled your attention away from such a fantastic view.”

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously, this is the Van Gogh of ceilings.” He pronounced it ‘Van Goff,’ because Sebastian wouldn’t be Sebastian if he wasn’t a snide, pretentious little shit. Dave rolled his eyes and whacked him on the shoulder.

“Shut up.” He repeated, stretching and sitting up. Sebastian watched him go and then returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“So… You never told me you were graduating next week.”

And with that, Dave groaned and flopped right back down. “Dad put you up to this, didn’t he? It’s why you were late.”

“Well, it’s kind of a big deal. Even I’m gonna go to my own graduation, if I don’t get myself expelled in the next year.”

“Get caught hanging condom balloons in the science lab again and guess what?”

“One time, David! One time!”

Dave twisted on the bed, rolling onto his stomach. “Why are we talking about this? I’m not gonna go and let them tear me apart again. I’m… I’m doing good. I’m finally living my life again.”

“This isn’t living, it’s _hiding_. Face it, Killer. You fill your days with homework and video games. In this room. In this box you let them put you in.”

“I leave all the time.” Sebastian sat up, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, to take _me_ out for food or tequila. And only if I bitch at you for an hour first. You don’t have a life. You have me and your dad and the emails you occasionally write to Lady Hummel.”

“How did you know-”

“Unlike you, I have more than one friend. I have two. And a half. Not by choice.”

For a moment, it looked like Sebastian was going to put a hand on his shoulder. Then he seemed to think better of it. “You’re really gonna regret it if you don’t go. You’re letting them win.”

“Have you been talking to my _therapist_ too?”

Sebastian’s face wrinkled up in disgust. “Eww, no, that’s too Twilight-stalky even for me.”

“I have never seen those movies. But now that I know you have, you are never going to live it down.”

“My sister is thirteen. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not going to sit with a bunch of people I hate so they can scream ‘faggot’ when I walk across a stage to get a stupid piece of paper.”

“I’ll blow you.”

Dave startled his way right off the bed, smacking into the floor with a thud that rattled his model airplanes. There was a shuffling noise and then Sebastian peered over the edge of the bed at him, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“Everything alright up there?” Dave’s dad called.

“Fine, Dad, just tripped!” Dave leveled Sebastian with a glare as the laughter finally burst out of him.

“What, you didn’t think I was serious, did you Killer?”

Of course not, because Dave was nobody’s type, no one was ever going to find him attractive, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a hell of a shock. “Does it matter? You can’t just _say_ things like that!”

“Right, right, because your poor virginal ears can’t handle it. Damn, Dave, you never want to talk about the _good_ stuff.”

“And you _only_ want to talk about it. Some of us have other interests.”

“Like graduation.”

Dave threw a pillow at his face.

_____

The next day, Sebastian physically mauled him with a graduation cap, forcing it onto his head. Dave could probably have just shoved him off, but he’d had more than one lecture on the bruises he’d left on Hummel’s body, and he was a lot more aware of his own strength now.

“Look. Sexy.” Sebastian shoved him towards his mirror. Dave shoved back.

“ _Nobody_ looks good in graduation caps, Sebastian, I don’t have to be Kurt Frickin’ Hummel to know that.”

“Dave, this is your last chance to have embarrassing pictures of high school.”

“Oh, gee, in _that_ case…”

“Don’t get sassy, it doesn’t look half as good on you as it does on me.”

_____

Sebastian left it alone for two whole days. It was Monday. Dave’s classmates all graduated on Friday. He’d finished all his exams and last minute work. There was nothing to do but wait for Sebastian, who was still taking finals, and yet showed up at his house every night anyway.

“So.” Sebastian had monopolized his bed today, forcing Dave to take the arm chair. Lately, he was looking for little things like that to irritate Dave. “You realize that one day your brood of adopted ethnic children are going to ask to see pictures of your high school graduation, right?”

Dave groaned and tossed his controller down. “Really? You’re _that_ desperate? Maybe I don’t want children, did you think of that?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Please. You’re a big squishy teddy bear with a crunchy jock coating. Literally every man like you wants kids.”

“That’s probably offensive in a way I don’t properly understand.”

“You spent _way_ too much time staring at Lady Hummel’s admittedly attractive rear. You’re absorbing his complete lack of fun.”

“Dude, _not cool_!”

Sebastian took advantage of the fact that Dave hadn’t paused the game to completely annihilate him. “No, what’s not cool is that you’re a coward.”

“Are you _kidding_ me? Those people can’t stand me, okay? I _still_ get messages on my facebook that ‘Lady Hummel’ is nice enough to clear out for me. I tried to- I tried to-” He still couldn’t say it. He could think it, and he did, when he was supposed to be sleeping, but actually vocalizing what he had done to himself, what he had tried so hard to do, was beyond him.

But there it was, echoing in his head, the way the belt had felt around his throat, that moment of panic when he kicked the chair out and his body instinctively tried to stand and relieve the pressure but he couldn’t there was nothing he couldn’t breathe he was going to die and his dad would find his body and his mother the way she would cry he couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe couldn’t-

“Breathe, c’mon Dave, deep breaths, it’s okay, it’s fine, in and out, come on.”

Sebastian was kneeling in front of him, Dave’s hands in his own. He had brought one of Dave’s hands to his own chest so Dave could feel him breathing, and was narrating. “With me, in and out, that’s it, there you go.”

Oh. He’d been gasping for air, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a panic attack, but the first time he’d had one in front of anyone but his therapist and his dad. He might have blushed, had all the blood not drained from his face, leaving him feeling clammy and cold.

“You’re okay.” Sebastian said. He actually looked worried, face wrinkling up around the eyes. Dave scrambled for words, and found he couldn’t make any.

“Don’t talk.” Sebastian squeezed the hand against his talk. “Just breathe. We’ve got time. Whatever it is can wait. And Dave? Don’t you dare apologize.”

It took a few long minutes before the tunnel vision faded and the world around him came back into existence. Dave pulled his hands away, wringing them together in his lap as he searched for an excuse.

“I… I don’t talk about… what happened.”

“I can see that.” Sebastian said quietly. “And I’m sorry I called you a coward. You’re not a coward. You’ve got a lot going on. I’d just really hate to see you miss out on something you deserve.”

Dave nodded, still swallowing, still trying to come down from the itch under his skin. Sebastian held out a hand to him again and he took it, let that be his lifeline.

“How can I face them, when I can’t even face myself?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Well, that’s what you’ve got me for. And if you ever tell ladyface I said something so sappy, I’ll burn all your model airplanes.”

His therapist told him he would be okay, one day. He might always have panic attacks, but he would learn to predict what triggered them, learn how to breathe through them. Sometimes, she claimed, he would be able to turn around and stop them from happening at all.

But Dave remembered the pain in his throat and the pain in his heart, and he suspected things would never actually get better at all.

_____

Sebastian didn’t seem to judge him for his hysteria, which was nice. With the way Sebastian could turn his moods at the drop of a hat, Dave could never predict him. He was a constant surprise, and sometimes that turned out to be for the better.

He dropped the idea of graduation entirely, in favor of kicking Dave’s ass at Call of Duty and demanding payment in the form of Arby’s and Starbucks. Anywhere they could go through a drive through. He stopped pushing for Dave to be visible, and Dave was grateful. Dave was so grateful.

“You’re late.” He told Sebastian on Thursday, tossing a controller at him.

“Yeah, Warblers are getting ready for graduation next week, and despite the fact that I don’t graduate for another year, I have to go.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, flopping into the arm chair.

“You better not be late tomorrow. Can’t walk across stage without my adoring fans.”

It took Sebastian a minute to realize what he’d said, distracted by the game. Dave counted the seconds with a gleeful smirk he couldn’t hide. _Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…_

“Fuck, Dave, you’re sure?”

“Yup. In fact, you get to sit in the auditorium tonight for rehearsal, because if I have to suffer you have to suffer.”

Sebastian gave a whoop of excitement, throwing his arms and therefor the controller up in the air.

“Jesus Christ, Sebastian, don’t break my shit.”

“I’ll replace whatever I trash, don’t interrupt me when I’m celebrating. You’re gonna walk for your graduation, you’re dad’s gonna stop bugging me to convince you, and you’re gonna show up those assholes. You win, Dave, and when you win, I win.”

“Which is, of course, the most important thing.” Dave said wryly.

“Damn straight. Grease is on me tonight, we are celebrating!”

_____

And then it was Friday, 6PM, and Dave was seated in a stiff auditorium chair, two rows and three seats over from two boys who keep staring and snickering. He was sweating under his blue gown, and the stupid tassel kept bumping against his face. The valedictorian was the most stuck-up, pretentious, arrogant person he’d ever seen in his life, and he hung out with _Sebastian_ on a daily basis. He was very tempted to just walk out, but as he was smack dab in the middle of a sea of blue, that wasn’t going to work out well for him. And Sebastian would make the _face._

The names trailed, little by little. Dave was in a graduating class of 400, and it took approximately ten years to even get to his row. As the people slowly dwindled, coming closer and closer to him, he could hear the two boys get a little bit more rowdy, and he knew what was coming.

“David Karofsky.”

“WOOOOO! GO DAVE!”

Dave nearly tripped over his chair, turning wildly to locate the noise that couldn’t _possibly_ be- And yet it was. Sebastian was standing on his _chair,_ making a bigger scene than Dave thought was possible for him. Next to him, Dave’s dad and, to Dave’s surprise, Kurt and his boyfriend, were also standing (thankfully on the ground) and cheering. Sebastian broke the intense glare he was leveling at the potential troublemakers two rows back, who looked pissed to have been interrupted in their heckling, to give Dave a wink.

There were people in his corner. People who would stand up for him, and who were not going to let people ruin this for him. Dave crossed the stage, took his diploma in his hand, and smiled for the flashes coming from _his_ corner.

_____

Afterward, Dave’s support group met him outside the building for far more hugs than he was expecting. Even Sebastian got in on the action, though Dave thought that might have had something to do with the look Hummel had leveled him with.

“So, wasn’t expecting you two.” He said to Kurt and Blaine. They certainly hadn’t mentioned it in their back-and-forth emails. In fact, Dave had gone out of his way to avoid talking about graduation as much as he possibly could.

“We weren’t gonna miss your graduation, Dave.” Blaine told him, wrapping an arm around Kurt. It didn’t hurt as much to watch as Dave would have expected it to. “Sebastian gave us a call yesterday, and since McKinley does their graduation on a Saturday, we had time.”

Kurt was smiling at him, and Dave realized he’d never seen Kurt really smile at _him._ He’d smiled when he thought Dave was Blaine, and he’d given Dave a sad little look in the hospital, but he’d never given Dave the smile he was giving now. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt. “Dave, we’re really proud of you.” Kurt patted his shoulder, smoothing a wrinkle in the gown. “You went back in there. You didn’t let anyone stop you. What you did today, that was really brave.”

Dave thanked them, or tried to. He stumbled over the words, really, until Sebastian took pity on him. “Killer here appreciates the PFLAG welcome.” He translated, patting Dave’s shoulder where Kurt’s hand had just been. “And I guess I do too. I needed someone to help me get my message across back there. Fucking assholes. Should’ve booed _their_ walk, would’ve if Prim and Proper hadn’t bitched about how rude it was.”

“Dave.” Dave was mid-laugh when he turned at the tap on his back and looked down at his mother.

Silence. Overwhelming silence that roared in his ears and made the whole world tunnel in to just the 48-year-old woman in front of him, who couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Mom.” He finally whispered. Maggie Karofsky gave a weak, tense little smile.

“Can we talk in private?” Behind him, the laughter trailed off. Behind him, Sebastian apparently recognized her from the house full of photos, and reached out to grip his elbow. Behind him, his dad started to step forward.

“Y-yeah.” A simple word, and he nearly choked on it. He shook Sebastian off, giving his friends a smile over his shoulder. His _friends._ Who were there when he needed them, and would still be there when he got back. “We’ll be right back.”

He wandered off with his mom, across the pavement, towards the flagpole. She stared up at it, probably so she didn’t have to stare at him.

“What are you doing here, mom?”

“What, you think I would miss my own son’s graduation?”

“Well, you haven’t spoken to me in, oh, about four months.” He spat, and that, of all things, got her to look at him.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m still your mother.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

For a second, he thought she was going to smack him. Then she seemed to collapse in on herself. “David, I didn’t come here to fight.”

Had she always been so small? He’d been taller than her since the seventh grade, but now she was dwarfed by him, small shouldered and frail. He thought the wind itself might take her to pieces, if she let it. “Then why did you come here?”

“Because, no matter what poison your father has been filling your head with, I love you.”

Dave flinched. “Mom, I never doubted that.” Which was a lie, but one he felt he owed to her.

She looked at him, with a gaze that had wrung many wrong-doings from his lips, the look that had always let him know he was busted. Then she sighed, and folded back into the small creature he didn’t recognize. “David, honey. I want you to come live with me. We can be a family again. I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart, and I don’t want to miss out on any more time with you.”

Dave looked at her, and tried to really see her. He tried to look past all the hurt, because this was his mother, and he loved her so much. He wanted to be with her, and he wanted to forgive her. “Mom, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come.” She pleaded. “I’ve been begging your father to let me talk to you, he won’t. He’s been trying to keep us apart, and you’re 18, so I couldn’t fight for custody.” Dave remembered those conversations. The only reason she couldn't get custody was that his therapist refused to say he was broken enough for someone else to need power of attorney. The thought lodged in the back of his throat, refusing to come out. “I knew if I came here, he couldn’t keep you away from me.”

“Mom…” Dad had been keeping them apart? That didn’t sound right, something about that didn’t clique. If she was willing to make a change and see him, why wouldn’t his father want that?

“And I found a new therapist for you.” She continued. “He’s helped so many people work through their issues. Baby, you don’t have to be like this anymore. He’ll help you figure out where your father and I went wrong, help you find the source of your trauma.”

An alarm bell rang in his head, something strange about the way she was speaking, and then she brought everything crashing down on him.

“He can fix you, David. He can teach you how to talk to women, how to get them to be interested in you. He can teach you how to work past the confusion you’ve been feeling.”

There it was. Suddenly, at 5’3”, she towered over him. Suddenly, everything was wrong. She was _still_ talking, and Dave couldn’t even open his mouth.

“And with his help and a little prayer, we can get you back on the right path. You are not beyond God’s grace, David, you just got a little lost.”

“He’s not lost.” An arm slipped through his. Dave had never stood quite so close to Sebastian before, but now he was pressed up against his side, a firm, solid presence. “He knows exactly where he is. At his high school graduation, about 10 feet from the people who actually give a shit about him. And he’s going back, right now.”

“Get your hands off my son-”

Sebastian spoke louder, drowning her out, pushing her back into her tiny bubble. “He doesn’t need to be fixed. There’s nothing wrong with him, or me, or even the flaming pride parade you tried to kill with your eyes when you came to steal him. We’re not traumatized. Hell, now that you’re out of the picture, Dave’s probably got the best damn home and social life a kid could ask for. Because he’s got us and he’s got his dad, and we all want what’s best for him. I’m not religious, I don’t know if Dave is, but I guess probably because he still keeps the bible you inscribed for him in his nightstand-” Dave opened his mouth, “Yes, Dave, I went through your stuff, this is not the time-” Dave shut his mouth, “But you know what, there’s plenty of people who believe in a God who’d accept him just the way he is. Scars and all. So you and _your_ God can _fuck off._ ”

She might have said something. She looked red-faced, like she’d figured out just what to say and it was about to burst out of her, but she was getting smaller and smaller because Sebastian was dragging him back to Kurt and Blaine and his Dad, and that was all he needed. People who supported him.

Dave turned his back on his mother. “So, Dad promised Sebastian and I dinner at Breadstix. Kurt, Blaine, you coming?”

Later, he would cry and shake, and feel so young. But right now, he was in his safe zone, and no one was going to take that from him. Not even his mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave's panic attacks are written from a combination of personal experience with anxiety, anecdotes from people I know, and research. They may not accurately represent everyone's idea of panic attacks, but they're very personal and interesting to write.


	3. Summertime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Sebastian has a birthday and that mistake I mentioned in the first chapter shows up.

Dave and Sebastian went to Kurt’s graduation. It was awkward. Everyone but Blaine gave them both funny looks, and Burt Hummel kept looking at him with this pinched, concerned face, like he didn’t know if Dave was there to hurt Kurt or himself. They didn’t stay for chit chat.

They didn’t see much of Kurt and Blaine after that, for a couple of reasons. The first, of course, was that they didn’t actually have mutual interests, despite a concentrated effort to find some. The second was that Dave still didn’t go out around people unless his dad was with him. He still wasn’t quite comfortable going public with the fact that he and literally all of his friends were gay. Just ordering McDonald’s inside with Sebastian instead of through the drive through sometimes left his hands shaking, but lately Sebastian insisted he had to take a few minutes to look at the menu, and he couldn’t do that from the passenger seat.

It took a few times before Dave realized he was still ordering the same damn thing he always did, and this was just his way of helping Dave step out of his comfort zone. His therapist approved of Sebastian. It was a really weird thing to think about. No adult should approve of Sebastian, just on general principal.

Sebastian grew more and more frustrated as time went on. He was still over nearly every other day, but when the sun glinted happily in through Dave’s windows, and the heat of the day called to him, it was nearly impossible to get him focused on head shots and side quests.

“Dave. David. Buddy. Killer. You cannot possibly plan to stay in your room all summer.”

Dave spared a glance for the dresser drawer where his swim suit rested. “I’m just… I’m not ready.”

“Not ready to be seen with the gay sex addict, right.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“But it’s what you meant.” It was the first time he’d heard Sebastian sound bitter, but he refused to talk about it anymore. He stopped letting Dave win, though, something he usually did when he’d gotten to pick dinner/snacks a few times in a row. He was vicious, annihilating him every chance he got. Dave got sick of Big Macs. 

And then, in the last week of June, Dave’s air conditioner broke.

“No.” Sebastian said, standing in the doorway. “No, _fuck no_ , Dave, your room is in the attic!”

Dave was, surprisingly, aware of that, which was why he was sprawled across his bed in nothing but his swim trunks, rotating fan aimed directly at his body. It was hot as _hell._ “I don’t see any other options, do you? It’s not like it’s _colder_ outside.”

“It’s colder than your _insulated bedroom._ ” Sebastian crossed the room in three easy strides, yanking at Dave’s arm. “We’re going out, Dave, I’m not lounging around in a sauna all day.”

“No one is forcing you to stay.” Dave pointed out, heart racing. He couldn’t, he couldn’t go out again, Sebastian hit on anyone even remotely attractive and male, they’d never pass.

“Get _up_ , Killer. My dad’s an attorney, remember? We’re practically rolling in money which means, unlike you? I have a _pool._ And a privacy fence.”

Oh. Okay, that actually sounded pretty good right about now. “At least let me get dressed.”

“Hurry up, I think I might _actually_ be dehydrating right now.”

______

Sebastian’s house was huge in a way houses did not have any business being. It sprawled back from the curb in an almost ominous manner, and Dave found himself wishing he could just stay in the air conditioned car. Sebastian took one look at him and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know, clearly my pretentiousness is an inherited trait. Can we skip the 1% jokes and just go swimming?”

It was even bigger on the inside, not that that actually made any sense. The entryway ceiling arched far above his head, and the floors were all hardwood. Dave kicked his shoes off and wondered if he was even _clean_ enough to be in here. Sebastian led him up a flight of steps, down a hallway, up _another_ flight of steps, and then finally stopped in front of a door. Across the hall, Justin Bieber was pouring out of another room at earsplitting levels, even though the door was closed.

“That would be the 13 year old sister.” Sebastian informed him, but before he could open his door, the one next to it opened up. Sebasian groaned. 

The man in the doorway looked barely out of his high school years, and _tired._ He was Sebastian’s spitting image in coloring, though he wore his hair in a ponytail that was reaching a frankly ridiculous length. He gave Dave a once over before turning to Sebastian. “Dude. You promised. No booty calls when I’m home to listen. You’re _never_ quiet.”

Dave flushed all the way down to his toes. Sebastian shoved him through his bedroom door, glaring at the man. “Shut _up_ , Lysander, no one asked for your opinions.” Dave choked on a laugh, Lysander and Sebastian shooting him identical looks of disgust before returning to their conversation.

“Nuh-uh, little brother, my opinions are the price you pay for my vow of silence about the months of designated driving.”

“Like Mom and Dad would actually care.”

Lysander arched an eyebrow. “You want to test that theory?”

“Goddamnit, he’s not here to screw me! We just wanted to use the pool!”

“Ooh! Swim time, I’m in!”

“No!” Sebastian yelled, voice pitching high and tight. “Go back to your fucking Mary Jane and your absurd 80s Hair Band obsession.”

The Justin Bieber music came to a blessed halt, and a tiny head of brown curls poked out of the doorway across the hallway. “Do you two _mind?_ Some of us are trying to have lives, over here.”

“Shut up, Bianca!” They yelled together. Bianca huffed, slammed the door, and then, if it was possible, turned the Bieber up _even louder._

Sebastian and Lysander glared at each other for a long minute, and then Sebastian slammed the door shut. “Great. Now you get to spend time with my brother. Never leaves his fucking room until the second I want to do something, and Bianca will probably come irritate us later.”

“Your parents named your brother _Lysander_?”

“My mom is an English Lit professor at Ohio State. All three of us are named after Shakespeare characters.” Sebastian made the face he usually reserved for particularly stale french fries, turning to dig through his dresser. “Turn around, I’m changing.”

“Your room’s nice.” Dave noted, admiring the impressive TV set up across from the bed. “Why don’t we ever play video games here?”

“Because in case you haven’t noticed, my siblings have practically booby-trapped the place. Usually Lysander’s off at college, changing his major for the thirty-fucking-seventh time, but Bianca _never leaves_ , I swear! I know she can’t drive yet but you would think her gaggle of pubescent nuisances would invite her over to their place, but nooo, we don’t have parental supervision, so we are of course the go-to hang out for middle school girls. Alright, you can turn back around.”

Dave tugged his shirt off, as well as the jeans he’d thrown on over his trunks, and turned. Wow. That was a lot of guy chest. A lot of completely hairless guy chest. With lean muscles from years of athletics. Dave had also played sports for years, but football and hockey gave a guy a different kind of muscle, and did nothing for the noticeable paunch of his stomach.

Sebastian, thankfully, didn’t notice Dave’s momentary mental fallout, too busy, grabbing Dave’s clothes and his own and tossing them in the general direction of the bed. “Alright, Killer. Wait until you see the pool. It’s pretty much Olympic. Dear old Dad never does anything by halves.”

This was very nearly an understatement. The pool was almost as sprawling as the house, going as deep as thirteen feet at it’s deepest, with a beach-like layout to the shallow end, so that instead of stairs you just walked forward and eased yourself in inch by inch. “We’ve also got a hot tub for when it gets dark and cooler. Back when Lysander and I were kids and could actually tolerate each other, we used to get a kick out of running back and forth between the pool and the hot tub for the contrast. I have been reliably informed that is pretty terrible for your health, but ten-year-olds don’t give a shit.” Sebastian didn’t bother easing himself in, heading straight for the diving board and swan diving off the end.

He looked graceful. Dave didn’t think he was even capable of looking graceful, given his size. Sebastian was made up entirely of smooth skin and muscle stretched over a thin frame. Dave had grown his first chest hair in middle school, and strongly suspected that new ones might still be appearing. There was a reason the men at Scandals knew him as a bear.

“You coming in or not?” Sebastian called when he finally surfaced. Dave walked his way in through the shallow end, wincing a bit at the ice cold water against his heated skin. Sebastian swam his way over, meeting Dave where the water reached his chest. “Really, the slow way? Everyone knows it’s better to get it over with in one jump.”

“That’s right!” The shout was all the warning they got before Lysander, dressed in a speedo that was just embarrassing enough that Dave suspected it was chosen out of spite, came barreling down the walkway to cannonball into the pool. Dave flinched as the resulting ripple effect splashed against his chest, and Sebastian looked murderous.

“What part of ‘go back to your Mary Jane’ was too complicated for your hallucinogen-addled brain to handle?” Sebastian yelled, dunking Lysander’s head back under the water the second he came up.

“Little brother!” Lysander said when he came back up, choking. “One would think you didn’t love me!”

“That would be because I _don’t._ ” Sebastian shoved Lysander back under. Lysander took him with him. Dave sighed and resigned himself to relaxing in the water, completely ignored by the brothers.

“They’ll do that all day if no one stops him.” He tilted his head up to see Bianca sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water. She was dressed in a weird tank-top bikini. Dave didn’t understand why girls didn’t just wear a one piece if they were gonna cover their stomachs anyway. “I _think_ they actually like each other, but I’m not sure. I mean, Lysander’s always running off to pick up Sebastian from bars and motels and stuff-”

“You know about that?”

Bianca leveled him with a glare that he suspected was learned from one of her older brothers. “Why do you guys always think I don’t notice these things? I’m 13, I’m not _blind_. Or stupid. Anyway, Sebastian always brings him these brownies from this bakery in Westerville that Lysander loves, so I guess they don’t hate each other, but you can’t get them to play nice. Are all boys stupid or just the ones who share my DNA?”

Dave looked across the pool, where Lysander and Sebastian appeared to be trying to drown each other. “No, we’re pretty much all this dumb.”

Bianca groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Thank god I’m gonna go to an all-girls high school.”

“What like chicks are any better?” Dave shook his head. “Trust me, teenage girls are _insane._ ”

“May I remind you that I’m a teenage girl?”

“Yeah, but you’re a newbie teenage girl. You haven’t actually gotten to the peak of teenager...ness. Trust me. You are gonna miss elementary school.” Dave shuddered, thinking of Santana Lopez and the razorblades she claimed to have hidden in her hair.

Bianca slid into the pool, shivering. She was tiny. The water that came up to Dave’s waist covered her shoulders, and she doggy paddled a few feet away. “Come on, help me pry my brothers apart.

That was easier said than done. It turned into an all out war, Dave swallowing more water than he thought humanly possible, as the four of them dunked and splashed their way through the pool. It was the most normal he’d felt in a long time.

_____

The pool became their new safe haven. They still played video games, this time sprawled across Sebastian’s frankly _massive_ bed, but now it was an afterthought, something to do on rainy days, or while their bodies dried in the chill of the AC. And now there were other people, Lysander and Bianca. People Dave actually managed to say more than two words to.

He thought maybe they knew. They knew about Sebastian, after all, and it wasn’t like he had a vast grouping of heterosexual friends (or, indeed, any friends at all), but Dave tried really hard not to think about it. Because if they knew, what were they thinking? What went through their heads? He had no way of knowing, and that was something he was not prepared to deal with.

Instead, he lost himself in life. It was nice to be outside. He tanned thoroughly, much to Sebastian’s sunburned irritation. He spent a lot of time helping Sebastian play ‘how long does it take to drown my brother’ and cringing in embarrassment when it turned out that tiny Bianca kicked ass at FPS games.

Life developed a new normal. Dave thought maybe soon, he could face the world again. Or at least the grocery store.

_____

“You’re good for him.” Bianca told Dave, after he’d shown up nearly every day for three weeks. Sebastian and Lysander were engaged in an intense debate over how exactly one turned on the fancy overpriced grill, while Bianca and Dave, being more sensible, watched from the relative shade and safety of the gazebo. “He’s not out drinking two or three times a week anymore, and he’s not sleeping around like he used to. Not blind!” She reminded Dave when he choked on his soda.

Dave rolled his eyes. “Maybe he just figured out that his _baby_ sister didn’t need to see all that stuff and got sneakier.”

“I’m a _teenager_.” Bianca reminded him, with the little foot stomp she hadn’t quite outgrown yet. “Besides, Sebastian’s too stupid to be sneaky. All brothers are. It’s like a requirement. He’s book smart, don’t get me wrong, but he’s never gonna be smart enough to pull a fast one on me and Ly.”

“I think you underestimate Sebastian’s dedication to the party lifestyle.”

“I think you _over_ estimate his ability to _time travel._ ” Bianca pointed out, whacking him with a damp inner tube. “He’s with _you_ eight nights a week, when do you think he has time to go be a loser?”

Dave opened his mouth. He thought for a minute. He closed his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

_____

Lysander was enjoyable enough, in small doses. He kept Dave entertained while Sebastian showered, since the one thing Sebastian and Kurt Hummel had in common was mutual love of their own hair. Sebastian may have frequently mocked Kurt’s dedication to moisturizer, but Dave had _seen_ his hair product shelf. Dave was in and out of the shower in fifteen minutes. Sebastian sometimes took an hour to wash the chlorine away. On those days, Lysander taught Dave to bake. Sometimes, he even made stuff that Dave could actually eat without getting monumentally high.

“He never thanks you, does he?” Dave asked him once, licking a drop of batter off his hand.

“I’m not sure he ever learned the word.” Lysander told him cheerfully.

“And yet you keep doing it. You pick him up whenever he calls, and I know that half of these brownies are going to end up in his room.”

“Your only child syndrome is _audible_ , David.”

“You’re psychoanalyzing again, you’re not even in grad school yet, you can’t start psychoanalyzing people. You've had like, two Psych classes.”

Lysander flicked a glob of chocolate icing at Dave’s face. “Psychoanalyzing implies effort, and you can be read without any. You don’t have any siblings, or you’d understand. I was four when Sebastian was born, so I actually kind of remember it. Suddenly, there’s this new force in Mom and Dad’s life, soaking up the attention, and it’s irritating, it really is. But then you’re sitting on the couch, surrounded by every pillow Mom can find because she’s so scared you’re gonna drop him, and you’re holding this tiny baby in your own tiny hands and you realize that everything in your life is going to come back to this moment, to being the best you can be because that’s what big brothers are for. So I pick him up whenever he’s drinking, ‘cuz it’s not like he’s gonna stop just because I asked him to, and I keep an eye on him, because otherwise who will? He needs me.”

Dave swallowed heavily, not quite meeting Lysander’s eyes. “I’m… I’m gonna tell him you’re such a big sap.” He finally said.

“Not if you want my cheesecake recipe.”

_____

“So.” Dave looked up from where he was half asleep across Sebastian’s bed. Sebastian smirked at him. It wasn’t the first time Dave had fallen asleep and spent the night, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but Sebastian still liked to poke fun when Dave crashed first. “As you probably don’t know, because I didn’t tell you, my birthday is coming up.”

Dave sat up a little, frowning. “ _Why_ didn't you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now, shut up. Anyway, I’ve been a very good boy. I haven’t dragged you out drinking in _ages,_ and I think you owe me a night at Scandals to celebrate my transition into the adult world.”

“A transition that you otherwise claimed happened in the ninth grade.” Dave pointed out.

“Not everything is about sex, you pervert. I am _talking._ ”

“Which is something you never stop doing, and therefor not really worth special attention.” Before Dave could properly process the situation, Sebastian straddled his hips, pressing both hands firmly over his mouth. Dave blinked sleepily up at him, shifting slightly under his weight. A more awake Dave might have panicked, but the creeping feeling was sinking in too slowly for him to realize the implications.

“Anyway,” Sebastian continued, as if he wasn’t seated firmly in Dave’s lap, “It’s going to be my birthday. As my very best and almost only friend, you are going to band together with Lady Hummel and Sir Hairgel to brave the big bad world and pay my bar tab at Scandals. In return, I will drunkenly offer to blow you, which you will chivalrously decline, and then I'll buy you dinner the next day to apologize for puking in your bed, which we will have shared because you wouldn’t want to leave me with my _family_ on my birthday. Deal?”

How could Dave argue with that? Literally. Sebastian wouldn’t get off his face. He settled for nodding, and then licking the palm of Sebastian’s hand when that didn’t dislodge him. Not bothered in the slightest, Sebastian wiped his palm off on Dave’s face. Dave rolled them both, hovering over him.

“I suppose you’d like a pony while we’re at it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, my parents wouldn’t be my parents if they didn’t try to buy my love.”

Dave rolled his eyes, ruffling Sebastian’s hair just to see his face scrunch up in irritation. “Alright, fine. But I get to cut you off at the end of the night.”

“You always do.”

They were so close. Dave could count Sebastian’s eyelashes, if he were someone more sentimental. More like Kurt or Blaine. He rolled off of Sebastian and counted the ceiling tiles instead, until the uncomfortable fluttering fled his stomach.

_____

 _’Fuck yeah 18! Jailbait no more!’_ Sebastian texted him the morning of his birthday.

**_’Technically speaking, the age of consent in Ohio is sixteen. You haven’t been jailbait in two years.’_ **

_’Don’t spoil my fun.’_

_**’Should I be concerned that your idea of fun is ‘now anyone can screw me without fear of incarceration?’** _

_Down, boy, I always stuck to people more our age anyway. Don’t tell anyone, I have a bad boy image to uphold._

_**’I’m sure Kurt will find you just as depraved no matter how old your hookups are.’** _

_’Error404 Fun not found. Please locate it before my birthday celebration tonight._

Dave rolled his eyes and sent him a winky face, putting it out of his mind.

They were supposed to meet at Scandals at nine, but it was only quarter of when Kurt called him, sounding frustrated.

_”Please tell me you’re on your way.”_

Dave fumbled with the phone, pulling over to switch it to speaker when it became clear he couldn’t drive and hold it at the same time. “Yeah, I’m already on the road, why?”

_”Blaine and I were fashionably early, as usual-”_

“I thought you were supposed to be fashionably late?”

_”Do you mind? This is kind of important._

“Right, sorry, keep going.”

_”As I was saying, we walked in not five minutes ago and lo and behold, your boy is already here.”_

“He’s not my boy, he’s not my anythi-”

_”You are the only person with any hope of taming him, he’s your boy. **As I was saying.** Your boy was already here, and he is **plastered.** ”_

_”That’s because it’s my birthday!”_ Dave heard Sebastian yell in the background, followed by what might have been Blaine shushing him.

 _”Anyway, I think he’s maybe got a half an hour in him before someone should really put him to bed, no matter what he says, he’s been hitting it pretty hard, I think half the bar bought him a round, I’m almost positive they know he’s only 18, but it’s the only gay bar in Lima, I guess they either understand or they don’t care. Either way, you should be here. Like, now._ ”

“I’m on my way.” Dave reiterated. “Just try to get some water and food into him for me.”

_”Will do.”_

Scandals was always loud, music pouring from every corner, but tonight it seemed deafening. He found his friends at the bar, Sebastian wobbling precariously on a bar stool while Blaine bounced around him and Kurt looked murderous in both of their directions.

“While I was on the phone with you,” Kurt drawled with a look towards his boyfriend, “Somebody who is not as good at recognizing levels of inebriation as I am decided it would be fun to do shots _with_ Sebastian. Please help me wrangle them.”

At that moment, Blaine whispered something that had Sebastian laughing so hard he fell right off the stool. Dave had to jolt forward to catch him, nearly bowling over Kurt, who’d had the same instinctive reaction.

“Dave!” Sebastian cheered, as if only just realizing Dave was there. “It’s my Dave! Peter- Where’s Peter? Blaine, did you see where Peter went?” Blaine, distracted by trying to crawl into Kurt’s skin because he was a total _lightweight_ , waved vaguely to a tall college-aged guy a few seats down, who looked at Sebastian like he was dinner. “That’s Peter.” Sebastian informed him helpfully. “Peter, this is Dave, you remember I was telling you about my Dave?” Dave offered Peter a little wave. Peter looked him up and down, seemed to reach the conclusion ‘not a threat’, and waved back.

“Okay, now that we’ve met Peter, why don’t we get some pretzels for you?”

“Peter wants to _fuck me._ ” Sebastian sang gleefully. Peter, thankfully, was sensible enough to look a little embarrassed by the volume. Dave might have felt bad for him if it wasn’t so blatantly true. Most people with functioning dicks wanted to fuck Sebastian. “But he caaaannn’ttt, because I’m busy with yooouuu.”

Dave flinched. “Way to make a guy feel special, Bas. Come on, open up.” He shoved a pretzel into Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian barely chewed it before swallowing.

“Don’t worry. I like being busy with you. Peter can’t have me anyway because I _don’t go back for seconds_ ,” The second part was shouted across the bar, bringing all eyes to Peter, who took that as enough reason to disappear into the more secluded and less Sebastian-infested areas of the bar, “And he knows it.”

“Ok. More pretzels now. And water.”

“No thank you, I have tequila.” Sebastian said happily, downing a shot that had been sitting in front of him. Dave gave the bartender a look that promised murder if another shot found it’s way over and the bartender shrugged helplessly. Dave shoved a glass of water into Sebastian’s hand.

“Drink.”

“Ooh, bossy Dave, that could be a fun game.” Sebastian gave him a look that was probably meant to be sexy, but was somewhat ruined by the fact that at that same moment he spilled his packet of pretzels into his lap.

“He’s been hitting on everything that moves.” Kurt said helpfully. “I think this might have been a bad idea. I think Blaine and I are going to head home- No, Blaine, I don’t want to dance, how did you get _three shots down_ in a single phone call, we are going _home_ \- and we’ll make some plans to celebrate Sebastian’s birthday tomorrow.”

Dave nodded distractedly, brushing the dust off Sebastian’s lap and dodging the water he was now spilling. “Yeah, give us a call.”

“They’re leaving?” Sebastian asked, frowning down at Dave, near cross-eyed from how close they were. “It’s my birthday, they can’t leave.”

“Well, you decided to start your birthday before anyone else got here, and now no one knows what to do with you.” Dave snapped. He couldn't help the irritation that had sunk in. Sebastian had asked for this, it had been his idea for them all to go out together, but he apparently couldn't be bothered to actually wait for them.

Sebastian shut down, eyes like ice as he stood suddenly. “No, you don’t get to talk to me like that. It’s my birthday and I’m going to have _fun._ ”

“Fine.” Dave said, gesturing. “Go ahead. Dance. I’ll stand here and make sure you don’t kill yourself tripping over your own feet.”

“I can do it myself!” Sebastian gave a little foot stomp, the spitting image of his sister in that moment. Dave had to laugh.

“Go ahead.” He repeated, softer this time. “If you want to dance, you should dance. It’s your birthday, after all. Just, no more alcohol.”

Sebastian did dance, sloppily. He was all long limbs in that moment, none of his usual grace, but he looked so alive anyway. He smiled, closed his eyes and rocked with the music. A few men got close, danced next to him, but no one danced _with_ him, he didn’t give them a second of his time. All he seemed to want was to feel the thrum in his body. Dave felt bad that they never went out to dance anymore, even if he’d never been any good at it. He stood just off the dance floor, but every once in a while Sebastian opened his eyes and smiled at him, like he was just so happy that Dave was there, watching, waiting for him.

Eventually, he tired, movements going jerky. On a good night, he could dance for hours, until the bartender had to shoo them out, but today he made it through about seven songs before he wobbled his way back over to Dave.

“I wanna go home.” He yelled over the noise, loud, too loud, half the bar was staring at him.

“Alright.” Dave agreed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to guide him and hold him up. He tucked Sebastian into the front seat of the car, turning the AC up to cool the sweat across his skin. “We’re gonna go to my house, alright? Just like you wanted, we’re going to crawl into bed and sleep, and in the morning I’m gonna make you breakfast and then make fun of you.” He didn’t know why he was narrating, just that it made the most sense, to walk Sebastian through things.

“I ruined my birthday”

Dave startled, glancing over at Sebastian. Sebastian had collapsed against the door, cheek pressed against the window. “What? No you didn’t, you had fun, didn’t you?”

“Was supposed to be like a party. Wanted to pretend I had friends.”

“You have friends. Kurt and Blaine showed up, you did a few shots with Blaine, don’t you remember?”

“And then they _left_ because I was too fucking drunk for them, Kurt looked at me like I was dirty.”

“Kurt looked at you like you were _frustrating_ , which, you gotta admit, you can be.”

“He hates me.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Don’t lie, you’re shit at it. Hummel hates me and I hate him and we all hate each other and you three are still the only friends I have.”

“If you want more friends, you might want to work on-”

“I don’t want more friends! I want the friends I have right now to like me! But Kurt can’t stand me, he thinks I wanna fuck his precious little hobbit.”

Dave paused, debated not asking, and then asked anyway. “Don’t you?”

“Fuck no! He’d probably spend the whole time waxing poetic about Hummel’s scrawny abs. At least if I fucked Hummel I’d get some awesome hate sex out of it, kid can’t dance if it’s not a shimmy but have you _seen_ the way his hips move?” Dave had. He was mostly over Kurt, but it still made his mouth dry and sent a small tremor through his hands.

“In your future attempts to win Kurt over, I strongly advise against mentioning any of that.”

“I’m not stupid, _David._ Not gonna do me any good telling Kurt I’d fuck him, his legs couldn’t be closed up any tighter if he chained them that way. He and Blaine are so wrapped up in each other it makes me sick. ‘Sides, I can have any single man I want.” He went very quiet after that, so quiet that Dave figured he’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that he realized Sebastian was staring at him.

“Except you.” He finally said, and it took a long moment for Dave to realize he was continuing their earlier conversation. “Any single man in the world, all I’d have to do is twist my hips a little and they’d come running. Any single man but you.”

“Okay then, I think it’s time for bed.” Dave decided. Sebastian would definitely be humiliated in the morning if he knew he'd been hitting on Dave. He came around the car to help Sebastian out, and Sebastian leaned heavily into him, forcing Dave to practically drag him up the stairs.

“Shh…” He whispered when Sebastian started giggling. “My dad is sleeping.” He tucked Sebastian into his bed, tugging his shoes off and pulling the blanket over him.

“C’mere.” Sebastian whined, reaching for him.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I just want to get ready for bed.” Dave promised him. He set out a glass of water and some Tylenol by Sebastian’s side of the bed, slipping into pajama pants before he climbed in himself.

They’d shared a bed before, but Sebastian’s bedroom held a king sized mattress. Dave’s was a full-sized, and they had to press together to fit properly. Sebastian sober didn’t really care about anyone’s personal space when it came to his own comfort. Sebastian drunk didn’t know people _had_ personal space. He crawled over Dave, pressed chest to chest, and snuggled in, staring at him. “Any single man but you.” He said again.

“Sebastian, I really don’t think this is the time.” Dave rolled him back onto his side of the bed, turning onto his side to prevent an encore.

“But I don’t _get_ it.” Sebastian persisted. “You don’t want me and it doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like I’m not your type, you used to give Gayface these big moon eyes when I first met you, and we’re built about the same. He’s even got a little bit of muscle now, like I do. Is it the height thing? Do you not like me because I’m taller?”

Dave processed the first part of that ramble and dismissed it entirely, focusing on the second. “You are like, half an inch taller than me, that doesn’t even count.”

“It does too! I’m taller than you, and that makes you feel inferior.”

“Sebastian, I have to be standing back to back with you for anyone to notice, I promise that your height does not intimidate me.”

“Then why haven’t we fucked yet?”

Dave flinched. “Because we’re friends?”

“I have fucked like, literally half of Ohio. I once screwed a so-called straight guy in the backseat of his hideous Sedan.’

“None of those people were your friends. Friends don’t use each other for orgasms.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not ‘using’ if everyone’s on board with it, and second, they totally do, it’s called friends with benefits.”

“We don’t have benefits, unless you count me mooching off your brother’s insane baking skills.”

“I know that! I just don’t get _why._ ”

In the darkness, Dave could just barely make out the curve of Sebastian’s jaw, the way he tucked his head down and folded up his knees until he seemed small.

“Because we care about each other.” Dave said softly. “I know you like to pretend you don’t, but I’d never hurt you and you’d never hurt me.”

“Of course I wouldn’t!” Sebastian was starting to stir again, agitated, and Dave had to hush him and pull the blanket back over his shoulders.

“Shh, shh… I know. We’re okay. You’re a little emotional right now.”

“I’m never emotional.”

“You are a weepy drunk when you get tired, and you know it. Let’s just get some sleep.”

“Is it because of what I made you do to yourself?”

The ice that lived, ever-present, in the deeper parts of Dave’s mind, crept up to show itself. “I did that to myself.” Dave recited. “I did that to myself, that was my decision and I have to take charge of my own actions, so I can move forward.” He could do this. He’d been working on it in therapy.

“But you wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t-”

“I have to take charge of my own actions so I can move forward.” Dave repeated. “I need to acknowledge that I did that to myself, so that I can take the steps to prevent myself from getting to that point again. I have to accept that, which means you have to accept that too.”

“I don’t accept that. This is all my fault.”

“Look, Sebastian, what you did was really shitty. But it wasn’t even the straw that broke the camel’s back, that came from school. And you’ve more than made up for it since. The way people treated me was not my fault, the things I was going through were not my fault, but when things got bad, instead of seeking out help, I shut down. And yeah, I’d like to blame those assholes at my school and online. I’d like to say it’s all their fault. And in a way, I do blame them, just a little. But the bottom line is, if I pin my… my s-suicide attempt on them, then it’s so easy to say that it’s out of my hands. It was someone else’s decision. And then it’s easier to take those steps again.”

“No!” Sebastian’s hand shot out, a painful grip on Dave’s upper arm.

“Hey, hey, I’m fine.” Dave soothed, “We’re fine. I’m just making a point.” He reached for Sebastian’s hand, tangling their fingers together so Sebastian couldn’t grab him again. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Sebastian turned his eyes to Dave’s face, hot even in the dark chill of the night. “I’m going to take care of you.” He promised. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay from now on.”

“And I’m going to make fun of you for all of this tomorrow when you’re sober.” Dave said with a laugh. “Sleep, Sebastian. We'll make more birthday plans tomorrow.”

Sebastian mumbled something into Dave’s chest, where his face had taken up residence. Dave let him stay. It was chilly in his room anyway, and Sebastian seemed to need the comfort.

_____

Dave woke up to a pillow smashing him in the face. It hit him again before he actually managed to open his eyes. “What the hell?”

Sebastian straddled his hips and shoved the pillow against his mouth. “Shut. Up.” Sleep-mussed and wrinkled, he still managed to look furious and intimidating. “We never speak of last night again.” He said slowly, keeping Dave muffled in the pillow. “It didn’t happen. You dreamed it all. Sebastian Smythe is an emotionless sex god. Deal?”

Dave burst out laughing. Sebastian hit him again.

_____

“We’re going bowling.” Kurt informed them a few hours later, voice higher than usual as it filtered through the metallic tinge of speakerphone.

“Bowling.” Sebastian replied flatly, rolling his eyes at Dave

“Yes, bowling. There’s hardly anything else to do within 40 miles of this hick town that doesn’t involve bad Italian or alcohol, and I thought Dave would appreciate it if we didn’t take him rollerblading.”

“I played hockey.” Dave reminded them all.

“You move like you’re embarrassed of your body.” Sebastian informed him, and Kurt’s protest at Sebastian’s rudeness didn’t actually go as far as contradicting him. “Bowling it is. You’re paying, right Hummel?”

“Consider it a birthday present. 6 o’clock.” Kurt said dryly, and hung up.

“So I guess we’re going bowling with the wonder twins.” Sebastian said, stretching. They were both a little cramped, having not actually moved all day, beyond setting up the XBox. Dave nodded and didn’t speak. Bowling. In public. In non-gay bar public. Just him and three openly and _blatantly_ gay men.

He couldn’t do it he couldn’t do it he could already feel the pressure building but it was Sebastian’s _birthday_ and he only had one best friend and he only turned 18 once…

“Dave. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Sebastian looked at him in that way he could, that way he knew what pieces made up Dave’s mind. Dave shook his head.

“It’s your birthday. We’re going bowling.”

_____

Sebastian had to drive, Dave’s hands were trembling too much. They sat in the parked car, staring up at the building all decked out in gaudy neon lights, and Dave _crashed_ , spiraling down into the place where he couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe everything over and in him screaming to be heard he couldn’t go in there everyone would see everyone would know and laugh and point and it would be too much too much he ached with the need to relieve the pressure…

“It’s okay.” He hadn’t realized he was digging his nails into the soft skin of his arms until Sebastian took his hands. “It’s okay, just breathe, work through this with me, come on Dave, you can do this. You know how. Just breathe, in and out, do you need my help?”

There had been three more panic attacks since the first Sebastian had seen, and he had been there for two of them, walking Dave through. With a brother majoring in psychology, Sebastian picked things up here and there. He knew exactly what Dave needed. Gratefully, Dave reached out to press a hand against Sebastian’s chest, following the pattern of his breathing.

“We’re going home.” Sebastian decided, once Dave could see straight again. He had already put the car in gear before Dave was able to process what was happening, practically throwing himself out the door. He stood there, one foot in the car, the other on the ground, and Sebastian stared at him with hope and terror on his face.

“No.” Dave made himself say. “No, we came all this way, and Kurt’s paying, and it’s your _birthday._ I’m not ruining this for you.”

“Dave. You are literally the only person I can tolerate one on one for longer than twenty minutes. Any time spent with you sounds like a decent birthday to me. Especially if it involves kicking your ass and forcing you to buy me chicken nuggets.”

Dave shook his head. “We’re going in. I can’t… I can’t hide at home forever. Just… Please? Do this with me? Do this _for_ me?”

Sebastian sighed and put the car back into park. “Alright. But I’m not going easy on anyone.”

It was a Saturday night in Lima, Ohio and Kurt had been right; there was nothing else to do in the area. The place was packed. Dave lingered a little too far away from Sebastian. Sebastian kept glancing at him, like he wanted to crowd his way into his personal space the way he usually did after a panic attack. The way he had the night before.

Kurt had already texted saying he had a lane. They rented their shoes and found him easily, thanks to the fact that _Hudson_ and his _irritating midget girlfriend_ were awkwardly shuffling around.

“Oh hell no.” Sebastian said when they finally picked their way over to the lane Kurt had commandeered. “You did not say anything about the giant, and the hobbit family reunion.” Blaine looked like he was going to say something and thought better of it. Rachel Berry got as far as opening her mouth before Kurt silenced her with a deadly glare.

“Look, I get it, there’s bad blood between all of us, but if I can overlook it with Dave, Finn and Rachel can surely get over themselves for _one. Night._ ” There was ice in Kurt’s voice. He sounded rehearsed, as if he’d already said this multiple times. Given the look on Hudson's face, he probably had. “Look around.” He added in a hushed voice. “This is where Lima’s jock population comes to play. I know it’s your birthday, but I just thought it would be easier for David if…”

“If this wasn’t a meeting of the Lima Queer Alliance.” Much to Dave’s surprise, Sebastian nodded and dropped into his seat.

“Well, I for one think it’s great that you all have each other.” Rachel said, loud and high as usual. Dave sank, collapsing into a chair across from Sebastian, right next to Hudson, who was the only safe one. Hudson who gave new meaning to if looks could kill every time he glanced at the birthday boy, and who looked at Dave with nothing but confusion. Dave could practically hear the questions rotating in his head, and he knew it must be confusing. One minute, he’s bullying Kurt because Kurt’s gay and the next he’s running from his life because _he’s_ gay. Hudson had never been the sharpest tool in the shed, it had to confuse him. It confused Dave’s dad.

But Hudson didn't ask, and that made him the safest person here, because Kurt and Blaine and Sebastian all drew eyes where ever they went, and Rachel ‘I Have Two Gay Dads’ Berry didn't appear to have an indoor voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rachel.” Kurt said, all prim and proper, legs crossed and wearing what appeared to be custom made bowling shoes, because _of course_ he wouldn’t lower himself to rented shoes, not Kurt Hummel.

Blaine was looking between Kurt and Rachel, trying to interject and calm things down as Rachel got louder and louder and Kurt got icier and icier until it felt like it was snowing, and Finn was so quiet just staring at everyone and Sebastian was getting sarcastic in a way he only got when he was irritated, and he kept giving Dave these worried looks, and Rachel was so loud that the guys in the next lane were starting to look and Dave was _not breathing._

Sebastian wasn’t there to help. Sebastian couldn’t be there to help, not without drawing everyone’s attention, and Dave was already going to do that if he couldn’t get a hold of himself. Finn was already looking at him, forehead furrowed in confusion, deeper than his usual amount of _lost._ Dave had to breathe. In and out. If he closed his eyes and thought about it, he could imagine the way Sebastian’s chest would rise and fall, heartbeat stuttering beneath the palm of Dave’s hand.

In the end, he didn’t have another panic attack, but it was a near thing. His therapist would be proud. He cut into the argument that was still going, though Kurt, thankfully, seemed to have gotten Rachel off the topic of sexuality and on to the topic of her dress sense. Even Dave, in plaid and jeans, could tell it was abysmal.

Sebastian looked at him, the question in his eyes, and Dave shook his head. If he wanted to, Sebastian would take him home, and they could curl up and play video games and maybe even lay side by side, not cuddling because that was a bit gay even for them, but touching, making contact, existing in the same relaxing space. But then Sebastian would miss out on his birthday celebration once more, and Dave was not going to be the reason that happened.

Blaine _sucked_ at bowling, which was a bit of a relief to all of them, Kurt included, because it had started to seem like he might be _literally_ perfect, and that was enough to make a guy feel inadequate. Kurt handled the bowling ball delicately, like it might break, and insisted on having the guards up (Blaine refused them, and rolled gutter balls more often than not), but he actually had some semblance of aim. Rachel might have actually been worse than Blaine, but she had Finn _literally_ walking her through every step, pressed up against her back like he wasn’t aware they were in public. Sebastian was decent, Finn was good, and Dave… Well, he wasn’t quite at Finn’s level of skill, but he was better than Kurt, able to give Sebastian a run for his money.

Somewhere along the line, it became a competition between the two of them, Dave and Sebastian. Finn was rolling mostly strikes and spares, so they couldn’t hope to beat him, but everyone else was frankly average to awful. They were the only two on each other’s level, and they were so used to fighting to one up one another, that it only made sense to start trying to beat the other’s score.

And it was… _fine_ , really. Fun, even. Finn forgot himself at one point, and started actually talking to him, and Rachel lost some of her shrillness, possibly because Kurt dug the heel of his designer bowling shoes into her tiny foot every time it seemed like she was going to start up a pride parade again. It was just six people, hanging out, and okay, Blaine sometimes forgot they were being subtle and reached for Kurt’s hand or tucked into his side, but Dave was too busy trying to kick Sebastian’s ass to actually notice.

In the end, Finn won and Sebastian placed second, promptly accusing Dave of letting him win because it was his birthday. Dave had considered it, honestly, but then he’d fumbled the ball anyway and Sebastian had beaten him on his own merit. Blaine had the ‘honor’ of having a score in the single digits, but he seemed to be enjoying himself anyway.

It had been so long since Dave actually _hung out_ with people. People plural, not just Sebastian in the club or in the pool or in his room. It was noisy and crowded, and everyone kept forgetting what conversations they were a part of and interrupting each other. It was _great._

“We should do this again sometime.” Dave found himself saying, when their shoes had all been returned and they were all gathered under the sickly green glow of the neon sign.

Everybody looked at him, every last member of their group, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, wondering how exactly he was supposed to take that back. And then Sebastian grinned, easy-going, but with a tightness in his eyes that betrayed his emotions. “I’m in.”

Nobody else was going to let Sebastian Smythe, notorious misanthrope, look friendlier than they were. In no time at all, the other members of the group were nodding, Blaine already babbling a list of things they could do, and Rachel Berry of the screechy voice dancing on her toes, and overall just being way too enthusiastic about the whole thing.

“We’ll text you when we’ve got new plans.” Kurt agreed, calming Blaine with a hand on his arm. They were all pretty lucky to have Kurt, who could usually be counted on to think rationally and bring everyone back to focus. Dave shook the haze of ‘what am I doing?’ out of his head. He’d made it. He’d sat through an entire public trip, without a panic attack, without having to rely on someone else to keep his head on straight. And he was going to do it again, had even managed to suggest the idea himself.

In the car, Sebastian looked at him like he’d never seen him before. Dave actually had to urge him to keep his eyes on the road.

“At the risk of sounding like your dad, I’m really proud of you.”

Dave laughed, but Sebastian shook his head.

“I’m serious. A few weeks ago, a month ago, who knows how that would have gone. You did great today. A lot better than I would have in your situation.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Sebastian put the car in park, looking at Dave with weary eyes. “I think last night was a fairly accurate demonstration of how I handle things.”

“You were drunk.” Dave said with a laugh. “I didn’t take anything you said seriously. You were coming on to _me_ , it was pretty clear you weren’t thinking straight.”

Sebastian stared at him. Just stared, until Dave started to fidget, and then he said “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

No longer in his comfort zone, Dave squirmed in his seat. “Well. I mean. I’m not exactly your type.”

“You don’t even know what my type is.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Sebastian. I know we don’t talk about it and I said I’m not mad, and I’m _not_ , but you’ve already made it pretty clear that I’m not your type.”

“I deny anything I have ever said before March.” Sebastian said firmly. Dave sighed.

“Sebastian, let’s be realistic for five seconds, you’re usually so good at it. It’s not like you’re the first guy to tell me I’m unattractive. I’m fat and clumsy, and I tower over people. I don’t look like…”

“Like what?” Sebastian’s voice was barely a hiss in the night.

“Like you. Or Kurt. Or even Blaine, he’s short but he’s not chubby.”

Sebastian was quiet. In the shadows, Dave could just barely make out the subtle motions of his jaw, like he was literally working his words over in his mouth, fighting for what to say.

“Do you honestly think… Dave, they called you ‘bear cub’ for a reason, it’s a _type_ , a type that turns people on-”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Because he never does, he can’t, he could never think of sex as anything more than vague and unreal. He reached for the door and Sebastian locked it. Only Sebastian’s hand on his kept him from prying the lock back up.

“Jesus Christ, Dave, you can’t keep running away from this-”

“Since we’re in my driveway, I think you’ll find I can-”

“-Not fat have you _seen_ your muscles I could work out for decades and never-”

“-You're crushing my fingers let go-”

“-Can’t believe you actually-”

“Sebastian”

“-and all this time I- you know what, fuck it, my reputation is in tatters anyway-”

“What the _fuck-_ ”

Warm lips on his and he could see Sebastian now, eyes open, looking right into Dave’s, looking past his irises and down, down because somehow, Sebastian had always been able to open him up with just a look, had always been able to read him and understand. It was nothing like that first kiss, clammy and terrified and then oh so broken when Kurt walked away, no, this was warm, heated. Sebastian worked his mouth open, made a little whimpering noise against Dave’s mouth, slid his tongue in and Dave _moaned_ and shivered, and had no idea what was happening until Sebastian pulled away, lips glistening and wet and...

Oh. _Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So by now you've likely figured out what my mistake was. I spent so much time painstakingly researching nonsense like 'What day did classes start at OSU in 2012,' only to completely forget until I'd finished writing the chapter that at the end of Season 3, Rachel went to New York. I debated going back and replacing them with Mike and Tina, but in the end I decided the scene only really worked with Finn and Rachel. I rationalized it by reminding myself that Rachel flouncing off to New York in the season finale made no sense anyway, as college classes don't start until the end of August/early September. And also I just really like the bowling scene. It might be my favorite in the whole fic.
> 
> I AM NOT A THERAPIST and none of Dave's coping mechanisms should be taken as professional advice.
> 
> Fun Fact: Grant Gustin really is slightly taller than Max Adler.


	4. You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this story contains material that may be upsetting to sensitive readers. Nothing too bad this chapter, just a little bit of language from Dave's past that might be uncomfortable.

Okay, so Dave maybe panicked a little. Or a lot. Staring in the dark at Sebastian, at a _boy_ who had just _kissed him_ , maybe his brain just kind of short-circuited. He’d fought for words, found none, and in the end, fled the car before Sebastian could say anything.

He had forty-seven missed calls and a handful of text messages he wasn’t reading. He was counting the ceiling cracks again, because it relaxed him and because he couldn’t think about anything else while he was doing it. Because if he started to think about it (About warmth and softness and the way Sebastian tasted like the cherry coke he’d had at the bowling alley, and the way his whole mouth felt like there was an electric current running through it and nothing, not the time he’d cornered Kurt _no don’t think about that_ , not any of the girls he’d kissed, none of it had ever felt like this), he wouldn’t stop. He would obsess and obsess, and he might never function again.

This was Sebastian. Sebastian, who referred to most casual hookups as ‘the love of his life.’ Sebastian, who had enough notches on his belt that they probably all blended together. Sebastian, who may have been Dave's best friend, but also felt bad for him pretty much all the time, and was always doing stupid shit to try and make Dave feel better. This was Sebastian, who was probably not actually capable of romantic feelings, and who was really bad at understanding how real people interacted, and probably thought he was _helping_. This was Sebastian, and it didn’t mean anything, and Dave could be okay with that, but maybe not right this second, so he coudn’t think about it.

His phone chirped again from where he’d thrown it under his dresser. Text message. He felt bad, he really did, but he couldn’t handle it right now. He was not emotionally capable of discussing why Sebastian pity-kissing him was not actually reassuring.

And then his laptop started chirping, the helpful ding that meant an email had come in. Sebastian didn’t have his email address, not when Dave was usually just a text away, so that was probably safe and definitely distracting.

One new message from Kurt Hummel: _Answer your damn phone._

With his limited social experiences, it had not occurred to Dave that someone else might actually be trying to get a hold of him. He fumbled for his phone quickly, and sure enough there were five missed calls from Kurt, and even two from Blaine. His phone started buzzing again almost immediately, Kurt’s name and number flashing across the screen.

“Hello?”

_”David Karofsky, you are going to cause a lot of people a lot of worry one of these days, do you realize that?”_

“Uh…” No, he hadn’t realized it, actually. However, now that he was thinking about it, about the things he tried really hard _not_ to think about it, it did occur to him why his handful of friends might worry when he spontaneously stopped answering his phone. It wasn’t like he _went_ places. “Sorry?”

 _”You’d better be.”_ Kurt responded, and for a second he was the sophomore year ice queen, screaming down the hall about what a neanderthal Dave was. _”Now, it’s time for some serious talk. You may recall a moment over a year ago where I informed you that you needed to be educated?_ ”

Dave groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Kurt, I’m really not in the mood for Barbra Springstein or whoever.”

 _”Streisand.”_ Kurt corrected, voice so strained that Dave thought the mistake might _literally_ be killing him. _”And that’s not what I meant. Sebastian called us. Mostly me, but of course Blaine was there.”_ ”

Dave froze. “Sebastian… called you?”

 _”Yes, apparently it’s finally occurring to him that he should seek help from those older and wiser than him when he messes up. He… actually, he sounded pretty upset, Dave.”_ Kurt’s voice softened, went just a little bit quieter. Dave shook his head.

“It was just a misunderstanding, he shouldn’t have bothered you.”

_”I’m not entirely sure it was, not on his part anyway.”_

“Kurt, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

_”Sebastian said you’d say that. In fact, I was given the impression that you never want to talk about these things. Sebastian thought it might help if you talked to someone less… Sexually threatening. Actually, his exact words were ‘frigid virginal bitch,’ but I think that one **might** have been stress talking.”_

Dave choked on a laugh, forcing himself to sit up. “Kurt, as much as I appreciate this-”

_”I think Sebastian might actually like you. Genuine, romantic interest.”_

Dave went completely silent.

 _”He didn’t actually say that,_ ” Kurt continued, _”But you should have heard him, Dave, he sounded so distraught. He really thinks he’s messed this up. He thinks you’re never going to speak to him again.”_

“That’s ridiculous.”

 _”Which is what I said.”_ Kurt pointed out. _”But you know Sebastian. He’s not used to being open about his feelings. Or, you know, **having** feelings.”_

“Kurt, one again, I appreciate your help, but Sebastian doesn’t have feelings for me.”

_”David, as much as I used to joke about your neanderthal brain, you cannot possibly tell me that you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.”_

“There’s not much to look at.”

 _”Dave…”_ Kurt sounded just the slightest bit guilty, pausing. _”Dave, I can’t apologize for any of the things I used to say to you, I really can’t. I won’t be sorry for standing up for myself. But we’re friends now, we’re okay now, and I promise you, you are not an unattractive man.”_

Dave swallowed heavily. “Kurt, I’ve seen the kind of guy you go for.”

_”Okay, so you aren’t my particular type, but that doesn’t make you ugly, Dave. It just means you’re not the right guy for me, which I really didn’t think was a problem…”_

“It’s not!” Dave scrambled to assure him. The last thing he needed was Kurt thinking Dave wasn’t over his disastrous crush. “It’s so not, Kurt, I would never do that to you or, or Blaine!”

_”Dave. Breathe. I know, Blaine knows, neither of us sees you as a threat. Not anymore. It’s alright.”_

Dave drew in a shaky breath. He couldn’t speak, chest clenching tight, heart stuttering.

 _”We’re alright.”_ Kurt insisted. _”But Sebastian… He’s less alright. Because there’s lots of guys who would like you, Dave. They print entire magazines devoted to shirtless weight-lifting, football-playing guys. I was on the team for a week, and I had mandatory P.E. for four years, and I tried to keep my head down, but I’ve seen you shirtless, Dave.”_

“I’m chubby.” Dave finally said.

 _”You’ve got a tiny patch of fat on your stomach._ ” Kurt replied, in the brisk manner he had when he was tired of beating around the bush. _”The rest of you is a solid brick wall of muscle. I get that I’m tiny, Dave, but there’s a reason you were able to toss me around so easily, and it has nothing to do with my waistline.”_

Dave flinched and made a pathetic, sorrowful little sound that he immediately wanted to to take back.

 _”Oh, Dave… I didn’t mean that in a hurtful way, that was kind of supposed to be a compliment.”_ There was a muffled whisper. _”If it helps, and if all three of us can agree never to speak of it again, Blaine thinks you’re hot.”_

Dave laughed brokenly.

_”There we go. Now. Back on the subject of Sebastian._

“Sebastian doesn’t do romance, Kurt, you know that.”

 _”Sebastian looks at you like gravity itself is centered around you.”_ Kurt said bluntly. _”He never takes his eyes off you for more than a minute. He’s always right by your side, touching you if he can get away with it, and you spend every waking moment together.”_

“We’re best friends.”

_”I have the deep misfortune of being best friends with Rachel Berry. If I ever start acting like that with her, Blaine is under strict instructions to shoot me because clearly the infection has spread to my brain and it’s too late for me.”_

Oh god. Oh god, the worst part of all of this was that it was making _sense._

 _”Dave…”_ Kurt said softly when it seemed Dave wasn’t going to speak. _“Look Sebastian is… not completely terrible, but that doesn’t mean you should feel pressured. I would hate to see him take advantage of you. Not that I think he would do that on purpose! It’s just… He doesn’t think before he acts. You don’t have to be with him just because he’s the only single gay guy you know. He’s already told me to pass along how much he misses his best friend. I think if you just told him that was all you wanted out of this, he would be okay.”_

Quiet, so quiet he can hear his own breath, but at least that means he’s still breathing, in and out, none of this had ever occurred to him but apparently he was just blind because it had occurred to _Kurt_ , and Kurt could barely be bothered to stop looking at Blaine for longer than thirty seven seconds.

 _”Dave… You’re allowed to say yes, too.”_ Kurt whispered. _“If that’s what you want. If Sebastian is what you want.”_

“I can’t do this right now.” Dave hung up at him, dropped back onto his back, and counted the cracks in the ceiling three more times before he felt like his sanity was finally returning. Then, and only then, did he brave a look at his phone.

_im sorry._

_i shouldnt have done that_

_should have asked first or said SOMETHING_

_dammit Dave please pick up the phone_

_are you ok please be ok please dont be having a panic attack_

_im sorry it just seemed like a good idea at the time_

_you know what im not sorry i should have kissed you back at your fucking graduation no one looks good in a grad gown sorry but it hung off your shoulders and made you look all buff and i wanted to but i didnt want to one night stand you i didnt think you would buy me nuggets anymore if i did_

_im not sorry your the least shitty thing in this shitty state and I dont regret it_

_i take it back im sorry_

_please answer me_

It went on for a dozen or so more messages, all the same. Dave took a deep breath and sent a text of his own.

_Come over for dinner?_

_____

Sebastian looked exhausted when he finally showed up, standing in the doorway of Dave’s bedroom and holding up Taco Bell bags as a peace offering. Dave scooted over and made room for him on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian said as he sat down.

“You’re not.” Dave replied, shaking his head. “But I don’t blame you. I mean, I’m basically the only single guy you haven’t had yet, can’t really blame you for wanting a perfect score.”

“That’s not what-”

“Sebastian. I’m not mad. It was a really weird weekend for you, and you make impulsive decisions.”

“David-”

“And we don’t have to worry about it.” Dave interrupted, voice pitching higher in his haste. “We don’t have to worry about it, we are _fine_ , and we are going to have an epic Halo battle tonight.”

Sebastian stared at him, quiet and thinking. Dave couldn’t meet his eyes, not just yet, so instead he grabbed the controllers.

_____

Sebastian didn’t come over the next few days. Apparently, Bianca was having boy trouble, which both of them agreed was a horrifying idea, and his parents were actually at home for once, demanding his attention.

It was surprisingly lonely. Theoretically, he could have called up Kurt and Blaine, but without Sebastian, he would have felt like a third wheel.

He was _really_ lonely, though, so when nearly a week had passed and _they_ called _him_ , he went eagerly.

“I thought we were going bowling?” He said from the back seat. They’d insisted on picking him up and carpooling, but now they seemed a little lost. Blaine kept shooting him weird, unreadable looks from the passenger seat. When they pulled up to McKinley High School, Dave shook his head. “What? Why? No. Also, how? It’s summer, you can’t get in there.”

Kurt jingled his keys in Dave’s face. “Glee club perks, we all have keys to the April Rhodes Auditorium.”

“Which brings us right back around to ‘why?’” Dave said, resisting when Blaine came around to physically drag him from the car.

“It’s a surprise.” Kurt joined Blaine, tugging at Dave’s wrists until he was pried from the car. Dave may have been bigger than both of them put together, but Blaine’s body was entirely compact muscle from boxing, and Kurt had a grip that could have frozen anyone in their tracks.

“And we’re back to ‘No.’ I don’t like surpris- oh god, you’re not gonna sing are you?”

“No.” Kurt told him, tugging him along towards the auditorium, but Blaine had started to snicker and that was never reassuring.

They seated him dead center in the first row, directly in line with the stool on the stage. And then Sebastian walked out. Carrying a guitar.

“No!” Dave insisted, trying to scramble out of his seat.

“We will _sit on you._ ” Kurt hissed as he and Blaine pressed Dave’s shoulders back down.

“Please don’t sing.” He begged Sebastian as he sat down on the stool. Sebastian smirked. It didn’t reach his eyes. Dave groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Why do all you people try to solve all of your problems in song? This isn’t High School Musical.”

“Glee club perks.” Kurt sang, forcing Dave’s head back up.

“I was informed, repeatedly and loudly, that expressing yourself through song is ‘intimate.’” Sebastian leveled his gaze at Blaine, who squirmed uncomfortably, but still looked ridiculously pleased with himself. “I was also informed that I should pick a song you would actually _like_. It’s… It’s slightly inaccurate, but it’s the single most 'country' song I could find.”

Dave groaned again, but quieter, imagining the look on Sebastian’s face as he waded through country song after country song.

“Apparently, it doesn’t get much more country than Toby Keith, and Blaine helped me with the chords. So just… Just do me a favor and listen, ok? And then if you still want to leave, you can.”

He fumbled the first few chords, fingers slipping clumsily over the strings. The sound never got too loud; Sebastian seemed uncertain of how hard to strum and how much pressure to put on the strings, but it was decent enough. He played just well enough for Dave to make out the shifts of the music. And then he started to sing.

Dave could understand almost immediately where the inaccuracies were, but he could also hear the way it _fit_ , exactly what Sebastian was trying to say, even if Sebastian wouldn’t meet his eyes.

_”There's a different feel about you tonight_  
It's got me thinkin' lots of crazy things  
I even think I saw a flash of light  
It felt like electricity” 

Somewhere just into the chorus, Kurt and Blaine left his side, disappearing from the auditorium. And it was just the two of them, just him and Sebastian and the music.

_”Everybody swears we make the perfect pair_  
But dancing is as far as it goes  
Boy you've never moved me quite  
The way you moved me tonight  
I just wanted you to know…” 

It was a good song choice. Dave had actually heard of it, for one. He’d grown up on Toby Keith, and still had a few CDs laying around somewhere. But more than that, Sebastian actually sounded like he was _feeling_ something. Gone was the casual snark that usually lingered in his eyes and in his smile. In fact, he wasn’t smiling at all, staring about three feet above Dave’s head, face flushed a deep crimson.

_”You shouldn't kiss me like this_  
Unless you mean it like that  
Cause I'll just close my eyes  
And I won't know where I'm at.” 

Oh. _Oh._ The feeling, icy cold with shock and heated with something he couldn’t quite name, twisted it’s way up from his stomach to his chest and lingered there, a lump in his throat and a tug on his heart.

 _”They're all watchin' us now_  
They think we're falling in love  
They'd never believe we're just friends  
When you kiss me like this  
I think you mean it like that  
If you do baby kiss me again  
Kiss me again ”

When the song ended, Sebastian froze, hand still wrapped loosely around the neck of the guitar, eyes still lost somewhere above Dave. It hit Dave just how hard this had to be for Sebastian, who spent most days pretending he was some sort of robot.

He didn’t bother with the stairs; he was tall enough to climb the stage, and he couldn’t take the time when Sebastian looked like he might bolt at any second. It was the first kiss that Dave was both mentally and emotionally prepared for, and it was better for it. He cradled Sebastian’s face in his hands, and Sebastian made a tiny, desperate noise before throwing his arms around Dave’s neck.

“I’m not going to sleep with you yet.” He warned when they broke apart.

“I know.”

“And I won’t want you sleeping with other people.”

“Hummel already covered that threat.”

“And I’m not going to sing for you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m not technically out.”

“Don’t care.”

“Sebastian, I’m kind of a mess.”

“David Karofsky, I have been putting up with your so-called ‘mess’ for months now, will you _please_ shut up and go back to kissing me? I even used my nice manners.”

Dave didn’t have an argument for that one.

_____

They didn’t tell his dad. They didn’t actually tell anyone, except Kurt and Blaine, who were obviously hard to hide it from. And, in some ways, nothing changed. They still sat around playing video games or went swimming. They still fought over what they were going to eat for dinner. But now there was _kissing_ , and that was an entirely different kind of wonderful.

It turned out that kissing was a vast art form, and there were a thousand different ways to do it. There were tiny kisses on the corner of his mouth when Sebastian was trying to distract him from video gams so he lost. There were soft, gentle kisses when Sebastian was happy to see him, or he’d found a compliment that was just sweet enough to get Sebastian smiling, but not so sweet that he scowled and told Dave to knock it off with the mush. There were fast kisses and slow kisses. In the first two weeks they dated, Dave thought he might have had a thousand kisses at least.

And there were kisses, like this one, where they got a little too carried away.

Dave respected that Sebastian was not a virgin, and as long as he wasn’t _still_ sleeping with every available man in Ohio, he didn’t really care about anything that came before. Likewise, Sebastian seemed to understand that anything beyond kissing was far beyond what Dave was capable of. He had only just figured out that it was okay for his hands to leave Sebastian’s shoulders and slide down his back.

But they were healthy adult men, technically speaking, and they spent long hours alone in a locked bedroom, sprawled on a comfortable bed together, sometimes forced to press a little closer than usual if they were in Dave’s room instead of Sebastian’s.

And okay, Dave was nervous and unable to think past kissing without feeling nauseous and ashamed, and he was maybe a little shy and a bit melodramatic, but he wasn’t _dead._ It was really hard to ignore the fact that his boyfriend (Jesus _Christ_ ) was hot, and when their thighs pressed together and he leaned in for a kiss, sometimes he leaned a little bit too far and their chests pressed together, and it was _so_ different from making out with Brittany after football practice. Sebastian tasted better, for one.

It was just hard, trying to hold himself back. Because when he found himself over Sebastian, with Sebastian’s hands in his hair and his own fisting in the pillow, he forgot. He forgot that he had no idea what he was doing. He forgot that he hated his body. He forgot that they were waiting, that they were quite possibly waiting forever because he refused to even think about gay sex. He forgot everything except that Sebastian’s hair was soft, and his mouth tasted like peppermint gum and Reese’s Pieces, and that when he slid his hand under Sebastian’s shirt he was warm and solid and made that curious, pleased little sound, and he could just keep sliding up up up, nothing but flat masculine-

Dave rolled off of Sebastian so fast that he nearly tumbled off the bed, might have anyway if Sebastian’s hand hadn’t been so tight in his hair that he thought he might have lost a few strands. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wet, breathing in in in and out out out, _three cracks four cracks five cracks_ until he thought he might burst, because he couldn’t even look at Sebastian right now. Sebastian, who was so experienced and always so eager. Sebastian, who deserved someone who could at the very least admit they found him attractive.

“They really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Sebastian propped himself up on one arm, staring at Dave with a look that was so concerned it looked strange on his face.

“I just need a break.”

“Dave, you freak out every time you're confronted with the fact that we’re both guys. I’m not stupid. Please don’t treat me like I am.”

Dave closed his eyes, blocking out the way Sebastian just looked so good, hair mussed and lips kiss-swollen and flushed. “I’m trying.”

“I know, I get that. I’m not upset.”

Dave choked on a laugh and Sebastian swatted his arm gently.

“I’m _not._ ”

“Sebastian, you’ve been having sex for years now. I couldn’t move slower if I was a literal Ken Doll.”

“Are we seriously having this conversation? I _sang_ to you.”

“Only because you Glee kids don’t know any other way to solve your problems.”

“Ok, point, but I sang _country_ to you. If I just wanted to screw I would have skipped that and gone to Scandals.”

Dave went quiet, staring straight up.

“Dave, I am not a romantic, and you knew that when you met me. I’m probably not gonna buy you flowers or shout my love from the rooftops on Valentine’s day. But you, out of all the people in this godforsaken state, are the least shitty. In fact, when you forget to keep hating yourself, you bounce all the way from ‘least shitty’ to ‘pretty fucking awesome.’ So if I’m gonna do this relationship thing, why not do it with someone I can actually stand to be around for more than five minutes?”

“I just want to give you what you deserve.” Dave whispered. “Like an actual boyfriend. One who’s not so ashamed.”

Sebastian leaned over him with a quizzical expression, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin. “Okay, rule number one of dating: if your boyfriend tries to convince you they ‘deserve’ sex, you kill them and hide the body.”

Dave rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, Dave. I’m not that much of an asshole. Look, the only way I’m gonna enjoy anything with you is if you’re enjoying it too, and right now, you’re not gonna enjoy it. I get that. I knew that when I signed on for this. Let’s just both agree that neither of us actually knows how to be in a real relationship, and go from there.”

“Well, you totally did buy me flowers once.”

“I _stole_ you flowers, there’s a difference.”

_____

The way everyone figured out was about what could be expected from Sebastian Smythe.

It was one of those moments. The ones where Dave could forget about the shadow he still felt on his throat (He’d healed months ago, his therapist said it was all in his head, but he couldn’t stop feeling it). The ones where he forgot about _cocksucking faggot go kill yourself_. Where he couldn’t even reach the thought that his mom wanted to fix him.

None of that could break through the haze of laying side by side with Sebastian, noses touching, the taste of ice pops and apple pie. Sebastian kept his hands on Dave’s shoulders, perfect gentleman. He didn’t let Dave worry, hadn’t for a second tried to pressure him. Dave liked the warmth of him, the slightness of his shape. He could rest a hand on Sebastan’s side and it would wrap all the way around. Sometimes his shirt slid up, just a little, and Dave could feel the heat of his skin, just a tiny inch of his hip, nothing that could scare him.

It was during one of those moments, when Dave thought maybe, just maybe, he could inch a little closer, let their knees touch, let his hand trace the flat of Sebastian’s stomach, that the door opened.

“Sebastian, Lysander wants to know what you want for din- Oh my god, _gross_!”

Dave flinched, Sebastian flinched, and somehow they smacked their foreheads together in the motion. Through the searing pain, Dave was vaguely aware of Sebastian hurling a pillow at Bianca’s head.

“Goddamnit, why don’t either of you ever knock?!”

“Why don’t _you_ ever lock your door?” Bianca replied, still standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Or hang a tie on it or _something,_ so Lysander and I don’t have to see you shove your tongue down poor Dave’s throat.”

“You realize he actually wants to be here, right?” Sebastian said, throwing another pillow at her. Bianca ducked and stuck her tongue out.

“Only because he hasn’t seen you the way we have.” She turned to look at Dave, who was still cradling his head. “Just wait until the first time he gets sick, he’s like a toddler.”

“Thank you, dearest sister. Now get out.”

She left in a huff, and Sebastian collapsed back onto the bed, rolling his eyes at Dave. “Well, my whole family is going to know now. Don’t panic, the parental units will probably assume I’m gonna fuck and run, and Lysander will be thrilled. He’ll probably bake a cake.”

Swallowing his fear, Dave forced a grin. “I love it when your brother bakes.”

“You and everyone else. I’d assume it was the pot, but apparently he occasionally makes actual food, who would've thought?”

Dave propped himself up on his arm, leaning forward to kiss him again. “I think I’m gonna be okay. It’s just your family. It’s not anyone I’d have to deal with.”

“I will happily kill my brother if it makes you feel better.” Sebastian offered, shifting up to meet him.

The door banged open. “Hey, little brother, what’s this I hear about you scarring our poor sweet sister for life?”

This time, Dave threw the pillow. “Get. Out!”

_____

It was a little less dramatic when Paul Karofsky found out. This time, they were arguing, not kissing. Sebastian was seated on the kitchen counter, bickering with him over the merits of take-out vs. home cooked meals. Sebastian wanted french fries, Dave wanted lasagna.

“I won the Halo tournament.” Dave reminded him, already layering ingredients in the pan.

“Yes, which means you get to pick the restaurant.”

“It’s amazing you don’t weigh a thousand pounds with all the grease you consume.”

“Yes, because _pasta_ is so slimming.”

“Pasta is delicious, and has more nutritional value than chicken paste in nugget form.” Dave teased, just to see the look on Sebastian’s face.

“You sound like Kurt. Oh my god, I’m dating Kurt Hummel. Somebody save me.”

“You’re not dating Kurt. I just want to eat something I can actually _digest_ for once.”

“You still sound like Hummel.” Sebastian sang, nudging him with his foot.

“No, Kurt would have kicked you out by now. I, being the generous boyfriend I am, am still making you a delicious, home cooked meal, which you will enjoy.”

“Where did you learn to cook, anyway?”

Dave got very quiet as he layered out the cheese. “I know you don’t like her,” He said finally, “But my mom and I used to be really close.”

Sebastian wrung his hands in his laps, nodding solemnly. “I know I’m not the best at social interaction or reassurance, but if you ever wanted to talk about her…”

Dave reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tight. “You’re the first one I’ll go to.” He promised.

There were other moments, ones that didn’t have the heat of sensuality charging through them. There were quieter moments, when he looked at Sebastian, and Sebastian looked at him, and there was that flash of understanding. Because they _got_ each other. Their experiences were intertwined. Silent moments, just appreciating each others company. And the best part of these moments, the very best part, was that they’d been there the whole time. Some days, Dave still missed Azimio, but he knew now that their friendship was nothing like it could have been, nothing like his friendship with Sebastian. Not even because they were both gay, but because they both understood each other. Azimio had never known him, and now he never would.

Scene set: Dave and Sebastian holding hands in the kitchen, staring into each other’s eyes. Sebastian breaks first, laughs it off, swinging their hands together making a joke about three weeks of dating turning him soft. Enter Paul Karofksy, Stage Left.

Dave’s dad stood in the doorway to the kitchen and cleared his throat.

“Dad!” Dave yanked his hand away from Sebastian’s. Sebastian, who didn’t _do_ parents, had never been around long enough to meet them, and who actually kind of liked Dave’s dad, panicked, dropping from the counter top.

“Mr. Karofsky!”

Paul stared at both of them, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been calling me ‘Paul’ since we met. I wasn’t sure the word ‘Mister’ was in your vocabulary.”

Sebastian flushed guiltily.

“Dave,” Paul continued, turning towards his son, “Three weeks? When were you going to tell me?”

 _Thudthudthud_ Dave could hear his own heartbeat and he knew he _knew_ that his dad wouldn’t care anymore than Bianca or Lysander or Kurt or Blaine, but it was his _dad_ , there was no going back from this, no more pretending things were okay and nothing had changed and-

Dave took a deep breath. “We’re taking things slow.” He said, voice weak. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t ready for people to know. But they seem to keep finding out anyway.”

“Who else knows?”

“My family.” Sebastian spoke up. “My little sister is a gossip. She found out, and it all went downhill from here.”

“And our friends.” Dave added. “You remember Kurt and Blaine? They kind of helped set us up.”

“I’m not known for my romantic prowess.” Sebastian added.

Paul sighed. “I just wish you’d told me, Dave.” Dave flinched. Sebastian, without even thinking about it, reached out and grabbed his hand. Paul’s eyes locked on that contact, and he continued. “I’m not your mother. I promise, I _promise,_ I’m nothing like your mother. All I’ve ever wanted for you, since the first time I held you, was for you to be safe and happy. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me.”

“I don’t!” Dave protested. “I mean… It’s not just you, Dad. I don’t know that I would have told _Sebastian,_ if that wasn’t a necessary part of the process.”

“I like to think I would have figured it out eventually.” Sebastian interrupted with a wry smile. A little bit of the tension seemed to slide out of the room. “Maybe even before we got married.”

Paul laughed, and Dave stared at his dad with wide eyes.

There are moments, between people. Moments between lovers, moments between friends, moments between family. Paul Karofsky hugged his son, and Sebastian, with a smile, ducked into the living room, and left them to their moment.


	5. The Night Before Life Goes On

Ohio State University, in Columbus Ohio, started their fall term on Wednesday, August 22nd. Move in day for people living in the dorms was the 19th. Lima Ohio was more than an hour and a half from Lima, in good traffic. It was only 23 minutes from Westerville, but Dalton was a boarding school that drew from all over the state, and Sebastian actually lived in a ritzy gated community closer to Lima, making the commute originally because he preferred his own bedroom to a dorm room, and now because he actually had _friends_ in Lima. 

Theoretically, Dave and Sebastian had been aware of all these things for weeks now, but in practice it was a lot easier to pretend it wasn’t happening. One month of dating left them still in the pleasant honeymoon stage, and they were relatively attached to each other by now.

Sprawled across Sebastian’s bed (They were there more often than not, since Dave’s dad had reinstated the ‘open door’ policy, and Sebastian’s parents didn’t seem to actually exist), horror movie filling the dark room with pale light, Dave whispered into Sebastian’s hair. “I’ll come back every weekend.”

“As if I’d miss you that quickly.”

Dave rolled his eyes, nudging Sebastian’s side. “You’re quiet. You’re never quiet.”

“We’re watching a movie.”

“We’re watching a terrible movie where morons find their own dead bodies in a mine and don’t get the hell out of dodge, and you haven’t made fun of a single one of them.”

Sebastian hummed in some sort of acknowledgment. “Well, I’m very distracted by the horrible acting.”

“You’re gonna miss me.”

Sebastian sighed. “Of course I’m going to miss you. But you haven’t left yet, so we don’t need to worry about it.”

“Sebastian…”

“We’re not worrying about it. We are going to enjoy our time together, and then you’re going to come home every weekend because neither of us has a real life anymore and our Friday and Saturday evenings are completely free. Besides, Kurt’s sticking around waiting to reapply for NYADA. I will, _unfortunately_ , have two babysitters here who are very interested in my well being.”

“I still can’t believe he didn’t apply anywhere else, didn’t he say only like, twenty people get in every year?”

“Blaine already read him the riot act. He thinks Rachel got to him. You know her better than I do, you know how she is. And she’s ticked that he’s not joining her in New York anyway, because that’s what he needs, to be homeless and unemployed while Rachel Fricken’ Berry prances around getting everything he’s ever wanted.”

“Are you sure you don’t know her better? Because that was pretty damn accurate.”

“I am directly quoting Blaine. He’s a little frustrated right now. Kurt’s started working at the Lima Bean and that makes him tense, which makes Blaine tense, which means I get to be tense because apparently Blaine and I are BFF 5ever now.”

“...Do… Do people still say any of that?”

“Blaine does.”

“We need other friends.”

“Agreed.”

_____

They had a date planned for August 10th. Technically, it wasn’t a real date. They were going bowling with Kurt, Blaine, Mike and Tina, because Dave still couldn’t quite handle his role in the Lima chapter of PFLAG. All they had to do was stop for Dave’s wallet, then head out and have fun. Provided Sebastian could get through the night without killing anyone, of course, which was always a distinct possibility.

“I’ll be right out.” Dave promised, but he wasn’t. In fact, he didn’t even make it up to his room. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, where his father had called him, and stared.

Paul Karofsky sat at one end of the table, Maggie Karofsky at the other. Both white knuckled around their coffee cups, and looking at him expectantly.

“I told her you were going out tonight. She insisted on waiting to speak to you.”

Ann shot his father a dirty look. “Of course I waited. I realize no one _actually_ listens when I speak, but he’s _my son too._ ”

“I’m well aware-”

“No, Paul, I don’t think you are! You have no right to keep my child from me.”

“He’s 18, he can choose whether or not-”

“Not if you never pass on my messages-”

“With the messages you’ve been leaving, can you honestly-”

“Yes! He is _my_ -”

“You know, I’m still standing right here.”

The two supposed adults both froze, looking him over guiltily.

“Mom, why are you here?” Dave asked quietly.

“Your father and I have come to an agreement.” She looked stiff, back ramrod straight in the chair. “Although you are _my_ child,” She shot Paul a withering look, “In the end, the terms of our processing divorce list the house as his, and he can and has banned me from it. Our agreement says that I can come see you, provided I don’t bring up your… choices.”

“ _What_ choices?” In the months he’d known Sebastian, Dave had seen him angry. He’d seen him sneaky and underhanded. He’d watched him rage at a man who copped a feel without waiting for Sebastian to come to him first. He’d seen irritation at his siblings, and resigned frustration with Rachel Berry. Rarely, however, had he seen Sebastian quite so cold.

“I thought you were waiting in the car.” Dave whispered.

“You never came back, I wanted to make sure things were alright. I’m glad I did. _What_ choices?”

Maggie drew herself up to her full, diminutive height. With Sebastian creeping past 6 feet, it wasn’t impressive. “Young man, I don’t know who you think you are-”

“Dave’s boyfriend.” Dave flinched, but Sebastian squirmed his way into the doorway, tucking himself under Dave’s arm so he could wrap an arm around his waist. Dave was pretty sure he’d mostly said it to watch Maggie turn that weird shade of purple.

“Dave and I have agreed we’re not going to discuss this.” She said, choked.

“No, that was all you.” Dave said, finding his voice with Sebastian there. “I didn’t agree. And I won’t. I’m happy, mom. I want you to be happy for me too.”

“Or,” Sebastian added, looking quite pleased with himself, “You could just leave. That’s my favorite option.” Dave hushed him, nudging him back a bit. Not because his mother needed protection from Sebastian, but because Sebastian might need protection from _her._ There was a slight tremor in the arm around his back. Sebastian was vocal and aggressive, but usually, he was in confrontations that didn’t really matter, like stupid bar arguments or bitch fests with Kurt.

“You wanna grab my wallet and go wait in the car?”

“Mmm, no, I’m gonna wait right here.”

All the blood had drained from his mother’s face. She looked at Dave like she’d never seen him before. “David…”

“I’m assuming, in these conversations you want to have, that Sebastian isn’t invited?”

She didn’t answer him, but her mouth drew into the thin line that, in his childhood, had always meant she was out of patience.

“Then thanks, but no thanks. I’m…” He took a deep breath. “I’m going through a tough time right now, mom. And I love you, I really do, but what I need right now is to surround myself with people who support me.”

“Which he has.” Paul finally interjected. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Maggie. Dave has your number. He can call you if he changes his mind.”

She turned on him, unable to look at Sebastian. “If you think for _one second_ that I-”

Dave didn’t wait for her to finish. “We’ll be back in a few hours, Dad. Sebastian’s spending the night.”

And if he enjoyed the way his mother’s body tensed up, well, he was only eighteen. A little immaturity was excusable.

_____

They were late, but not because of Dave’s parents. They were late because Sebastian pulled over halfway there to crawl over the seat and into Dave’s lap. It was closer than they’d ever been, and Dave had to try and even his breathing. Not an easy task, with Sebastian ravaging his mouth like a dying man.

They kissed a lot. Dave had grown to enjoy kissing. This was not kissing. This was a battlefield. His senses were flooded with _Sebastian_ , the sight and smell and taste and _sound_. When he managed to get his lips away, Sebastian gave an indignant little squeak and latched his mouth onto Dave’s collarbone, yanking his shirt out of the way to suck a mark.

“Woah!” That felt good, that felt better than good, he wanted to leave Sebastian to it for eternity. “Okay, okay, come up for air.”

“Don’t wanna.” Dave felt the curve of a pout against his shoulder before Sebastian returned to the kissing, licking into his mouth. The tremor from before was back, this time in Sebastian's whole body. It occurred to Dave with a start exactly how badly his mother had gotten to Sebastian. When she talked about fixing and choices and sin, she wasn’t just talking about Dave.

“Come on, come on Bas, look at me.”

“Bas?” Sebastian looked up at him, smiling a tiny amused smile, but his eyes looked watery.

Dave rolled his eyes. “I supposed you’d prefer something like sweetheart or pumpkin?”

“Not if you want to keep your extremities.”

“That’s what I thought. You know she can’t have me, right? I’m not going anywhere.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, then remembered himself. “I wasn’t worried-”

“Don’t.” Dave said softly. “I get it. You have a reputation, and you like looking tough. But not in front of me, okay?”

He felt very small under the critical look Sebastian gave him. It went on for a long time before he got another, smaller nod. “I just don’t like her.”

“Yeah, well, right now I’m not her biggest fan either. And I appreciate you coming to defend my honor-” Sebastian laughed, ‘-But right now we are very late for a triple date, and I don’t want us to go any further in the front seat of your car. There’s not enough room for anything good, and I’m less likely to panic if I don’t feel trapped.”

Sebastian hummed in agreement, carefully crawling back into his seat. “I guess you’ll have to be the one pinning me next time.

And wasn’t that a thought. A thought that only took vague, hazy form in his mind, but still one that lingered in the soft, hot place that craved Sebastian.

Tina was better at bowling than Rachel, and Blaine had somehow managed to get _worse_ , but it was a good night.

_____

T-minus four days and counting. “I want to go on a real date.”

Sebastian looked up at him from where he’d just come up for air, treading water in front of the diving board. “Okay. After we dry off, I’ll call Kurt and-”

“No. A _real_ date. Where it’s you and me, and some sort of meaningless activity we can’t focus on because we’re too busy thinking about what we get to do when we go home.” Which, right now, was kissing. But shirtless kissing was slowly becoming a possibility.

“No.”

That was not the answer he’d been expecting. Dave slid off the cement and back into the pool, frowning. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. I mean I’m not forcing you into a panic attack just because you feel like you owe me.”

“Wait, what?”

Clearly, this rant had been building up in Sebastian’s head for a while, since he wasn’t even looking at Dave, and had swum to shallower water for the express purpose of being able to wave his arms while he spoke. “Look, I get it. I have experience. Lots of experience. Entire counties worth of experience.”

“Yes, thank you, this is all very flattering.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to put yourself out.”

“I’m not-”

“I just don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m not expecting anything just because-”

“Sebastian!” Bianca and her weird tankini slid into the pool, rolling her eyes. “Your first real boyfriend wants to take you on your first real date. Get your head out of your ass.”

Sebastian’s mouth moved a few more times, but all the sound had vanished. It was pretty funny to see him so speechless. Eventually, his shoulders relaxed, and he frowned. “Lysander wouldn’t like your language.”

“Lysander isn’t here. Your boyfriend is. Go play tonsil hockey somewhere else.”

Sebastian stuck his tongue out at her, but he had nothing but warm smiles for Dave.

_____

They drove three towns over, where nobody knew them. Sebastian's compromise, not Dave's. Dave had wanted to brave Breadstix, but Sebastian had gently suggested that maybe Dave stick a toe in first, before diving into waters he couldn't see. He let Sebastian pick the movie and the restaurant, and in an absolute panic, he let Kurt pick his clothes. Before disregarding literally every suggestion he made and ending up in jeans and flannel. He just wasn't made for button downs, vests, and whatever a boutonniere was.

It was a quiet little Thai place, tucked into a corner street. Dave felt too big for the room, oppressively large in the alley that led to the restaurant. Sebastian flitted in and out of tables on his way to theirs, taller, but small and slender in all the ways that mattered. On the football field, Dave was grateful for his size. On a date, it was a curse.

“Breathe.” Sebastian whispered once they were seated. The waitress gave them a knowing little wink, and Dave felt himself break out into a cold sweat. “Breathe and order. Don't get anything with more than two peppers next to it unless you wanna die.”

Curiosity peaked ,and distraction appreciated, Dave ordered a four pepper appetizer just to prove he could and spent the rest of the meal not tasting anything. Sebastian, happily chowing down on both the appetizer and the spiced monstrosity he'd ordered for himself, spent the meal making fun of him. It was all relatively normal, even more normal than trying to date a Cheerio. More so because, unlike the Cheerio, Sebastian actually cared what he had to say.

“You let _Kurt_ pick your date outfit?”

“I didn’t actually _listen_.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, looking him up and down. “Yes, that’s very clear. I think Hummel might actually be allergic to flannel.”

“He started throwing out all these fancy french terms, I couldn’t keep up.”

“Yes, not all of us can be fluent in couture.” Sebastian replied, in a near-flawless mimicry of Kurt’s more snobbish tones. Dave groaned. 

“I have never been more glad for Anderson’s existence. Could you imagine if Kurt had been single, and actually taken me up on that disastrous proposal?”

Sebastian eyed him carefully, clearly unsure of whether this was a safe topic or not. “I don’t think that would have worked out in anyone’s favor.” He said slowly.

“If I _ever_ get to the point where I start understanding Kurt, please exorcise the demon living in my body.”

Sebastian laughed.

_____

The movie was stupid, brainless, violent nonsense. Dave loved every second of it. What he loved the most, though, was that in the darkened theater he could twine their fingers together and no one would ever see. He was very aware, throughout the screams and blood, of heat pressed against his palm. Sebastian always seemed to run about five degrees hotter than he did, and it was an intoxicating warmth.

The thought of letting go when the lights came up was distressing. So he didn’t. He held on, even as Sebastian tried to loosen his grip. “I can do this.” He assured him. Feeling brave in the near-empty room, he leaned forward and stole a kiss. “I can do this. I _need_ to do this.”

Sebastian, ever-patient, always eager to move at his pace, nodded and let him lead the way.

Dave could pretend a lot of things: confidence, pride, strength. He could not pretend, however, that people didn’t stare at them, that heads did not turn when they walked by. It was less than he’d expected, though. Most people didn’t turn to look at all, and those that did seemed to glance right over them, sliding back into their original position as if they hadn’t passed at all.

His hand slid, slick with sweat, against Sebastian’s, but Sebastian held him steady as they walked. Out the door, down the block, across the street, through the parking lot. The tight grip only broke when it came time to get in the car. Dave stared numbly at the steering wheel. 

“I did it. I actually did it.”

When he turned, Sebastian was looking at him like he’d lit the stars themselves.


	6. Just Got Started Lovin' You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of that language from before pops up again.

Everything Dave was taking to college fit into three boxes, mostly full of food, one suitcase, and a sturdy backpack. It was a bizarre feeling, to look around his room and realize just how much stuff he didn’t need. His roommate had a TV, and the room was going to be small. It wasn’t like he could cart all his furniture there. 

He laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was going to have to get new coping mechanisms. Maybe his dorm room would have cracks to count. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t need them.

Sebastian always let himself into the house. No need for Dave to go all the way down, he was perfectly capable of climbing two flights of steps by himself. Today, he let himself in and went straight for the bed, curling up against Dave's side. Dave hadn’t expected Sebastian to be a cuddler, or to need the reassurance of physical contact. He was finding himself wrong on both counts, though Sebastian preferred to be the one to initiate contact, and it usually didn’t last long. It was just more comfortable to stop trying to keep apart on the small bed. Dave rolled onto his side, resting a hand on Sebastian’s hip and noting the distant look in his eyes.

“I _knew_ you’d miss me.” He said, with an arrogant triumph he didn’t really feel. “And I haven’t even left yet.”

“Well, you could hardly expect me to get emotional before you were packed.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, but he’d tangled his fingers in a bit of Dave’s hair that was getting just a little too long. He’d developed the habit as their separation grew closer, and sometimes Dave worried that his inevitable premature balding would only be sped along by the touch, with how focused Sebastian’s fingers were. 

“What, I don’t get tears? Perhaps a heartfelt ballad performed by you and a backing of people who I either hate or can’t remember the names of?”

Sebastian smacked his shoulder halfheartedly. “See if I ever serenade you again.”

“And what a tragedy _that_ would be.” Dave drawled, earning himself another swat. “You’re very talented, and it is _still_ very weird that you Glee club kids don’t know any other way to solve your problems.”

“You have an iPod. I have _seen_ your iPod. Don’t tell me you don’t understand how music can make people feel.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to dance.”

Sebastian sat up, smirking. “See, I’ve been informed that that isn’t exactly true.”

“What are you talking about?” Dave asked him warily. Sebastian waved his phone.

“A little porcelain birdy emailed me a video. A certain _zombie_ video.”

Dave lunged for the phone. They both toppled, laughing, off the bed.

_____

Campus was too big. It made Dave, in all his hulking size, feel microscopic. He’d brought a bike, but it didn’t seem like that was going to help. All the big brown buildings looked the same. He should have come for summer orientation, gotten a feel for the place. Instead, he’d panicked and spent the day in Sebastian’s pool, pretending that everything he knew wasn’t careening to a stop. 

His dad had helped him unload everything into his dorm room before heading back to Lima. All three boxes. One room, two beds, two desks, two dressers, and one bathroom right off the room. At least he didn’t have to share that with anyone but his roommate.

Joey Mason was a wiry baseball player, who seemed to perpetually smell of marijuana and last night’s liquor, but he was friendly. He cursed up a storm over most things, but even that was with an easy-going grin. They got along well enough. Joey slept all morning and had no qualms about sharing video games, but he was prone to off-color remarks that left Dave cringing. It was like playing Halo with a twelve year old over the internet, with the amount of ‘your mom’ jokes and ‘fucking faggots’ that came out.

_“You should switch rooms.”_ Sebastian insisted when Dave finally found a chance to call him four days into his new life. _“Talk to the RA. Do something.”_

“I think he’s harmless.” Dave offered. “I mean, he let this ‘gayer than Hummel’ kid ahead of him in the dessert line the other day. He just doesn’t… watch his mouth?”

_“Then tell him you don’t like it!”_

“No offense, Bas, but I’m probably not gonna expose myself like that. Who knows if I could even get another room if it was a problem?”

Sebastian gave an irritated huff, the one that always made Dave feel properly chastised. _“When are you coming home?”_

“Next weekend.” Dave promised. “Just give me this time to get used to campus. See the sights. Join some clubs. And then I’m all yours, every other weekend.” It had been his therapist's suggestion, backed by his father. They wanted Dave to try and make friends, to live an actual life, instead of coming home every weekend to hide in his safety net.

_“Oh joy, two days out of every fourteen.”_ Sebastian drawled sarcastically. _“I didn’t mean that.”_ He added hastily. 

“You did.” Dave said fondly. “But it’s alright. I got used to you always being around, too.”

_“I’m not that clingy. I’m not **Blaine.** ”_

“You _miss_ me.”

It was nice and easy, falling back into their typical good natured teasing. It reassured Dave to know that some things didn’t change, even if everything else was twisting and warping. 

____

There were several LGBT groups on campus. Dave hastily scribbled his name on the email list for three of them, but in the end, he only had the courage to show up at one. He was early, early enough that he had time to pace anxiously outside the door in a panic. He had an encouraging good luck text from Hummel and a sarcastic looking smiley from Sebastian, but neither of those was enough to push him into the room. In the end, what did it was a big ogre of a guy in a Letterman jacket, who came striding confidently down the hall and into the room with an easy smile, never once faltering. He could hear the people inside greeting the guy happily, like old friends.

He wanted that. He wanted it to be so easy. He wanted to be able to walk into a room where everyone knew and didn’t care. More than that, he wanted to be able to walk into a room where people _did_ care, and let them all know he didn’t give a shit. But if he couldn’t do that, not just yet, at least he could do this. Baby steps.

Dave let himself into the room, waving awkwardly at the handful of people who caught his eye. He sat in a tiny uncomfortable chair next to a bowl of tortilla chips and a slightly-flat bottle of coke, and just listened. 

A few people, older students, knew each other. They grouped together in little clumps across the room. Some looked glaringly like Kurt Hummel, other people wouldn’t have been out of place in Azimio’s friend group.

The group was led by two teachers, a tall, slender woman with a beaming grin and a short portly man who slowly encouraged everyone to introduce themselves, going around the room until they reached Dave.

“I… I’m David Karofsky and I’m gay.”

_____

The nearly two hour drive stretched indefinitely out in front of him. He shuffled through playlist after playlist, settling on something that Sebastian had filled his iPod with, something angry and screaming and so full of emotion that he could barely stand to listen to it sometimes. It made him think of hair between his fingers and the little sliver of skin where Sebastian’s shirt tended to ride up. It made him want.

Dave had gone to two meetings of people talking about politics, and their partners, and things that were so infinitesimally _normal._ It was like cafeteria chatter. Mind numbing and easy. Sometimes, something twisted it’s way in, something that hurt, but mostly? He could have met the LGBT crowd on any street corner, in any classroom. They could have had the same conversations. Dave had spent 18 years trying to feel normal, and for once he finally did. Sebastian would have laughed. He wasn't a people person, and it wasn’t his kind of scene. But he told Dave he was happy for him, right before he changed the subject back to Dave coming home.

Dave didn’t even stop at his own house; his Dad wasn’t expecting him. He’d wanted Dave to take an entire month before coming home the first time, but Dave couldn’t go that long without seeing Sebastian. Not after they’d been spending every waking second together since before they were dating.

He’d made it two steps into Sebastian’s bedroom before his boyfriend pounced, dragging him onto the bed and over his body. “Missed me?” He asked, just to see Sebastian’s face screw up in a poor attempt at denial. 

“Missed your _mouth._ ” Sebastian tried, but the cockiness just wasn’t there, he didn’t have the heart to hurt Dave’s feelings, even by accident. Dave rewarded him with a kiss anyway. 

Kissing someone you hadn't even looked upon in two weeks was an entirely different experience. Sebastian was water in the desert, and Dave wanted to drown in him. “Let me try something.” He whispered against the soft skin of Sebastian’s throat, and when he drew Sebastian’s shirt over his head, his hands only shook a little.

They’d been shirtless in front of each other before, but now was different. Now, Dave tugged his own shirt off and reached out a trembling hand, running it up the smooth flatness of Sebastian’s stomach. Sebastian squirmed and let out a little huff of breath. 

“You’re ticklish?” Dave asked, surprised. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“No, you’re just too gentle.” He grabbed Dave’s wrist, guiding him so his palm pressed down a little firmer. “It’s okay. It’s all okay. We’re doing fine.”

Sebastian felt good beneath him, when Dave finally let himself explore. His skin was smooth, flawless even. When Sebastian returned the favor, he ended up caressing an embarrassing amount of hair, but he didn't seem put off by it. If anything, he seemed pleased, and Dave found himself flushed from more than just shyness.

It didn't go much further than that, but Dave thought it could have. With the way Sebastian arched beneath him, encouraging the soft touches, Dave thought he could be brave enough to have everything. Maybe one day. Maybe soon.

_____

It turned out that college was a lot like high school. There was still a lot of homework. More homework, actually. Dave was drowning in homework. He found himself scribbling down notes during his club meetings, and when sprawled across Sebastian's bed on his weekends home. 

“You should ask my mom to explain some of this shit.” Sebastian suggested, holding Dave's essay prompt at arm's length, as if it might try to eat him. Dave cringed. 

“Oh yeah, great plan. 'Hi, Dr. Smythe. You don't know me and I'm not in any of your classes, but I've spent the past few months being corrupted by your son. Help me with my homework?'”

Sebastian chuckled, looking pleased with himself. “I've corrupted you?”

“Irreparably.”

Sebastian leaned closer, closing Dave's laptop with a quiet click. “Can I do it some more?”

His boyfriend was nearly impossible to resist, now that Dave knew the way he felt beneath the blazer, the way his stomach jumped if Dave's touch was too light. Dave sighed and set his laptop on the bedside table, rolling onto his side to pull Sebastian against his chest. It required no reall effort; Sebastian was already folding into him before he'd properly reached out. 

This was his safety net, the place where Dave felt right and safe. He shifted, tugging Sebastian over him until they were pressed together along all the planes of their bodies, in ways that Dave still couldn't fully process. There was a heat bubbling low in his belly, and he felt intense, like things were careening towards a point he couldn't help but chase. 

“Wait!” Sebastian pushed himself up, hair mussed and cheeks red. Dave wanted to lick him. The thought struck him without warning, and for once it didn't make him panic, though it did make him duck his head slightly in embarrassment. “I had a plan. I had... Dinner plans. And cookies! I made cookies!”

“You're babbling.” Dave said fondly. Sebastian didn't do it often, but if he was feeling drunk or affectionate, the words always seemed to overtake him. “It's not dinner time yet.”

“And it never will be if I let you distract me. I had _plans._ ”

“You realize neither of us has an anniversary or a birthday for months, right?”

“Hush.” Sebastian hesitated, hovering over him, hands in his lap. “You know what? I don't care if you distract me. I don't need to be fancy. We're not fancy people.”

“No we aren't.” Dave agreed, slightly confused. 

“I don't need dinner to tell you I love you.” Sebastian finally found his point, through a red faced embarrassment Dave suddenly found himself sharing. The words sank into him, into that place where his feelings of joy towards Sebastian always lived, warming him from the inside out.

This was the thing he'd never put into words, something that had been living within him since before the first time they'd kissed, since he'd realized that Sebastian was his best friend, the person who always brought him back into the light. Maybe they were young and stupid. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was broken and damaged. But the one thing he knew was how he felt, right now, with Sebastian meeting his eyes and cracking that sly little smile, with a hesitance Dave never would have seen if he didn't know him so well. 

“I love you too.”

Above him, Sebastian's smirk grew into a real grin. He leaned down, fisting his hands in Dave's shirt. “Show me.”

This time, Dave was ready. They tugged their shirts off, familiarizing themselves with each other's bare chests, the lines and angles of their shoulders. Dave, feeling bold and passionate and desperately in love, let his hands drift, let himself feel the bones of Sebastian's hips and the curve of his ass. That was all he could manage so far, but it was enough. It brought a sound from Sebastian that Dave wanted to hear over and over again for the rest of his life.

An hour later, when Lysander banged on the door complaining that Sebastian had promised to make dinner, they were still entwined, having gone no further, but not yet pulled away. Dave's lips were sore and Sebastian's chest was heaving, but they were both grinning.

_____

“You shoulda seen the fucking faggot I creamed on Live today!” Joey told Dave when he came in. Dave paused in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob. He steeled his courage. Sebastian was right. He usually was. Dave didn’t deserve to be this anxious in his own bedroom.

“Joey… You know I’m gay, right?”

There was a long, silent pause. Joey stared at him. Then: “Shit, man, why didn’t you _tell_ me you were a fag?” Dave stiffened, but Joey just kept talking. “My chem partner’s queerer than a three dollar bill, I woulda hooked you up!”

Dave swallowed, taken aback. “You don’t… You don’t care?”

Joey rolled his eyes. “Fuck no. You bitches deserve to be just as miserable as the rest of us. So, about my chem partner?”

“Uh…” Dave shook his head. “Actually, I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“Good for you! Just put a tie on the door man, I don’t need to see your junk. We done?” Joey’s hand was already itching towards the XBox controller.

“Um, actually… Do you think you could cut back on the slurs?”

“No promises, man.” Joey said cheerfully, flicking through his game choices. “Old habits and all that shit. But I’ll give it a shot. Come on, help me crush some bitches.”

If this was the first month of college, Dave thought as he grabbed the spare controller, he could probably handle the rest.


	7. All I Want For Christmas Is You

_“Blaine cheated on Kurt.”_

Dave burst into hysterical laughter, and it went on a touch too long before he realized Sebastian was completely silent. More than that, he could hear a slight hitching over the phone, one that quickly became a full-out wail. He flinched. “You're serious.”

 _“He's been here for an hour.”_ Sebastian replied, shushing Blaine with a tone that was clearly meant to be soothing but just sounded horribly unconvincing. _“He went to visit Kurt and told him. Kurt broke up with him.”_

“Can you hold out until Friday? I can come home this weekend.”

 _“You have papers to write this weekend.”_ Sebastian reminded him. 

“Yeah, but after all they've done for us... You sound like you could use a hand.”

_”Yeah, but not with Blaine. I've got him. We'll have ice cream and maybe some booze and I'll tell horror stories about how boys are just gross. No offense.”_

“None taken.”

_”But I tried to call Kurt to see how he was feeling, and he heard Blaine in the background and shut me out. Judging by the state of the hobbit in my lap, I don't think we should just leave him to deal with things himself.”_

“I'll take care of it.” Dave promised.

_”I knew there was a reason I loved you. See you next week.”_

It took Dave a few minutes to figure out the best way to go about things. If Blaine was so distraught, Kurt couldn't be much better off, and where Blaine would collapse into himself, Kurt, when pressed into a negative emotion, tended to grow claws and fangs. The last thing Dave wanted was for Kurt to retreat into solitude and tear him down on his way out. It wasn't like he was particularly good at comforting people. 

Finally, Dave realized he was being a bit of a coward and picked up the damn phone.

_”Sebastian called you.”_

Dave sighed. Kurt was already on the defensive. “Hello to you too, Kurt.”

_”I told Sebastian I was fine. Well, I'm **going** to be fine. I'll be fucking **great**.”_

“You're swearing.”

_”I swear!”_

“Not when you're fine.”

_”...I appreciate your call. But I don't need help. I just need to be alone for a bit with Rachel and an entire cheesecake.”_

“Kurt... We're your friends. We're worried about you.”

There was a long pause. It settled heavily into Dave's chest, making him anxious. _”You **are** my friends, Dave, you and Sebastian. I'm long past denying that. But I'm not alone here. I have Rachel to keep me company and an internship I adore. Blaine just has you guys, and the Glee club. I'm not going to take any of that away from him, as angry and hurt as I am. He needs you more than I do. Maybe in a while, when it doesn't hurt so much, things can be different, but for now, I'm not pulling you guys between us when he doesn't really have much else.”_

It made sense. It made too much sense, in a way that left Dave feeling vaguely uncomfortable. It didn't seem fair, but none of what had happened did. “If you need us...”

 _”If I need you, I'll call. I promise.”_ Kurt paused again, and then said in a rush, as if he didn't think he'd manage to get it all out otherwise, _”Take care of him.”_

“We will.” 

It must have been to much for Kurt, because the line went dead without so much as a goodbye. Dave couldn't blame him. He was already pulling his laptop out to finish up his paper and get a head start on the rest of his work. It didn't matter what Sebastian said, he wasn't leaving him to handle this on his own. 

_____

 

Blaine was still a mess when Dave rolled into the area on Friday, heading straight for Sebastian's. He wasn't bawling anymore, but he looked listless, staring blankly at the DVD menu playing on the living room's huge TV, arms wrapped around one of the couch's many throw pillows. Sebastian had gone all-out in 'best friend duties', flooding the room with frankly obscene amounts of food. Blaine was shoving fistfuls of donut holes into his mouth at a rate that made even Dave, who had been known to clear a fridge or two, severely uncomfortable. 

“Oh good, you're here.” Sebastian said in a mock-cheerful voice that would have been more at home coming from one of the Cheerios than from Dave's collected, slightly stuck-up boyfriend. “Blaine and I were going to watch the Avengers. Did you see Iron Man and Captain America?”

Dave nodded, letting Sebastian shove him into a seat on the couch right next to Blaine. The heavy bowl of popcorn Sebastian dropped in his lap seconds later nearly toppled due to the haste. Sebastian was anxious. It rolled off him in thick, heady waves. Clearly, being the comforting best friend was draining him. Dave hated seeing him like this, when he was usually so sure of himself. In general, Dave tended to be the anxious one, with Sebastian poking and prodding until he'd unraveled the source of the problem.

Sebastian curled up as far from Dave on the couch as he could manage, which wasn't very far at all. Dave had been prepared to be offended, until he caught the way Sebastian glanced at Blaine out of the corner of his eyes. Of course, he wouldn't want to rub their relationship in Blaine's face. Still, with how rarely they saw each other in comparison to the Summer, Dave wished he could reach out to him. He settled into the couch, giving Blaine a bright smile. Blaine liked auperheros, from what Dave had been told, and Dave tried to engage him “Okay, so what's with the magic mind control stick?”

____

Blaine eventually perked up, after a lot of playing dumb on both Dave and Sebastian's part. He talked, anyway, explaining his way through the Avengers and a bootleg copy of The Amazing Spider-Man, which he dismissed as 'adequate.'

“Sam Raimi's trilogy was really the better series.” He babbled as he helped Sebastian lay sheets out on the pull-out sofa. “I mean, except the third one, nobody likes the third one, but Spider-Man 2 was absolutely fantastic. They only remade the series so they wouldn't have to give the rights to Spider-Man back to Marvel's company.”

Sebastian nodded along, making affirmative noises in all the right places, until he could finally coax Blaine into bed and turn out the lights. “You know... You know where to find us if you need us, right?”

Blaine went quiet for a moment, and then through the shadows, Dave saw him nod. “...Thanks, Sebastian.”

“Any time, hobbit.”

Up the stairs, down the hall, into bed, Blaine's distressed face never really left Dave's mind. He climbed in next to Sebastian and reached for him, holding him tight. 

“I still can't believe he did that.” Sebastian mumbled against his throat, allowing himself to be shifted and cuddled. “I mean, it's _Blaine._ He can't go a week without serenading Kurt's exquisite beauty, or some bullshit. I actively _tried_ to get into his pants for _weeks_ and got nowhere.”

Dave couldn't help but agree. It was like they'd entered another dimension with Blaine's evil twin. And with how distressed he was, Dave couldn't imagine a situation where Blaine thought this was a good idea. “I just wish I knew what he was thinking.”

“He said he was lonely. He felt like he was losing Kurt.”

“So he _ensured_ it?”

“I didn't say it made any sense. That's just what he told me. Any luck with Kurt?”

“I sent him an email so he could get back to me whenever he was comfortable. Radio silence. He's not ready.”

Sebastian snorted, and when he spoke it was tinged with bitterness. “Can't blame him. If I'd known, back when I was playing the field, what it was like to be attached to someone, I wouldn't have chased the taken ones. I used to consider it a challenge.”

Dave was the self-deprecating one in their relationship. He was the one with the terror and anxiety issues. He was the one who struggled to like himself. Sebastian was cocky and confident in a way that made Dave proud to know him. But sometimes, when it was just the two of them, there was the shadow of regret. Dave made it clear that he didn't care who Sebastian had slept with, or how many notches were in his belt, and on most days Sebastian didn't care either, but the fact remained that Dave was not the only former bully in the bed. 

“Stop.” Dave reached for his hand, sliding their fingers together, keeping them connected. “I'm not allowed to dwell. You and Kurt and Blaine and Dad and the therapist and literally everyone I know all gang up on me and tell me I'm not allowed to dwell on the past. Neither are you. Fixating doesn't fix anything.”

It was pitch black in the room, but Dave knew Sebastian well enough to know he was rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You should be majoring in psychology, Mr. Shrink.”

“Ew. People.”

That broke a laugh from Sebastian, enough of one that his shoulders shook and Dave started laughing too. It wasn't even particularly funny, but once they'd started, they couldn't stop. Sometimes, you just had to laugh.

_____

Two hour drives were lonely. Usually, Dave spent a good portion of them cursing Sebastian for being too good for the much closer Dalton dorms, but that Sunday, his mind was elsewhere.

 _”You know I love you, right?”_ He texted when the thoughts kept him up that night.

 _ **”Don't get sappy on me now, Killer.”**_ And then, after a full minute, during which Dave rolled his eyes and smiled like a fool anyway, _**”I love you too.”**_

_____

What Blaine had done was his own business, or so Dave told himself. It lingered with him anyway. It hovered in the back of his mind for the rest of the semester, and it changed the way he looked at things. He'd finally started making friends, mostly in the LGBT group. He had people he ate meals with, a handful of study buddies, but now he was hyper-aware of his interactions with them. Did he smile at Carter for too long? If his hand brushed Adam's when he passed the salt, should he feel something? Dave was not the type to cheat, but Blaine wasn't either, and he refused to talk to either Dave or Sebastian about what had happened, or how. Finals were hell, but it was worth it to get back home, where he knew exactly where he stood with the handful of people he spoke to. They didn't go bowling anymore. Apparently, Rachel and Finn had a falling out of their own, and now everything was awkward.

“Movies?” Sebastian suggested, when a full week of video games and making out got boring. Blaine had disappeared for his own holiday plans, and it had just been the two of them, which was a blessing, but the worn habits were starting to get old. 

“Jump scares or explosions?”

“Blaine reccomended The Hobbit.”

Dave winced. “Yeah, but weren't those first three movies like, six hours long?”

“More time to enjoy my company.”

“Ah, there's the ego I know so well.”

“There's always the new Twilight movie.”

Dave threw a pillow at him. “Don't even joke.” He fumbled for his phone, flipping through. “James Bond. You've been outvoted.”

“They're _still_ making those? He's been like, six people. It's time to move on to a different character.”

“It's _James Bond,_ Sebastian. You don't just 'move on' from James Bond.” Dave glared at Sebastian, until he rolled his eyes and shrugged. 

“Whatever. As long as someone's hot and something blows up, I'm in.”

“And we're going to see it in Lima.”

Sebastian dropped his phone, turning to stare at him. Dave didn't meet his eyes, not wanting his nerves to show through. “It's time, Sebastian. I can't avoid it forever. It's not like people don't already know, if they know me. I left school over it.”

“ _Or_ we could drive out to Sidney, they've got a drive-in.”

“Not in _December._ I'm ready. I really am. I want to do this.”

“Maybe I don't.” Sebastian looked guilty, chewing on his lower lip. “You're doing really well, Dave. So well. Maybe it's selfish, but I don't want to do anything that's going to risk that.”

Dave reached for him. If they weren't settling in for bed, Sebastian was not a cuddler, but he let Dave take his hand and meet his eyes. “I really need to do this.” He said softly. “I want to go out with you. I want to go to movies, and to dinner, and I want to complain about how much Breadstix sucks. I got to watch everyone around me get that, now I want it too.”

“Okay.” Sebastian's voice broke like glass, a moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability. Sometimes loving him felt too much, too intimate for their age, for their inexperience. So much so it hurt. Dave was glad for it anyway. 

_____

There were looks. Dave was coming to terms with the fact that there would always be looks, as long as he went out into the real world with someone he loved. Someone was always going to stare, to step out of the way, to mutter 'faggot' under their breathe. And he was just going to keep walking, even though the last one made his heart quicken, and forced him to tighten his grip on Sebastian's hand if he wanted to move on without making a scene. Sebastian wanted to fight, he could see it in every tense line of his body. He wanted this to be perfect for Dave, but Dave was finally coming to terms with the fact that life was never going to be perfect. Things were better now than they'd been before he was born, and when he was a kid, and even better than they were yesterday, but there was always going to be someone. He could handle one asshole in the parking lot, if he kept his distance, and if it meant that he could curl up in the back row of the movie theater with Sebastian at his side. There were things worth going out for.

That didn't stop the panic in his chest that had been building since they walked past that guy, but it was a nice thought. Dave hunched over his knees, one hand on Sebastian's chest to feel his breathing, matching it with deep, slow breaths. In and out and god people were probably staring- no don't think about that, that just makes things worse. “I'm not going home.” He wheezed out through gritted teeth.

“I wasn't going to suggest it.” Sebastian said, in the voice he reserved for lying to his parents. Dave wasn't yet ready to look up, so he settled for glaring at his knees instead. 

“I mean it.”

“Okay. Okay, Dave, we'll stay right here and watch the movie, but only if you don't freak out. If you freak out, we go to your dad. Not budging.”

“Not freaking out.” Dave retorted. This was not entirely true, but at the very least, his chest wasn't quite so tight anymore. He was starting to be able to breathe again. He felt that little bit of shame that always crept in when he overreacted like this. It was hard to deal with the guilt of having a full blown panic attack in front of people, but he was learning coping methods. Methods that weren't 'just don't think about it', since that never actually worked. Slowly, methodically, he counted his breaths, and slowly sat himself back up. “I'm fine. We're going to watch the movie.”

Sebastian looked pale and concerned, but he nodded and straightened up in his seat. Dave felt another pang of guilt. Before him, Sebastian had never really worried about anything. Now he worried far too often. 

Things were getting better, though. He had stepped back from panic, and he would do it again, if he had to. He wasn't going to hide inside anymore. He was going to get out, live his life. Be the boyfriend Sebastian deserved, rather than the one he settled for. Maybe he'd go back to the gym, the one in Lima. By himself, instead of with an army of club members to protect him.. Or maybe not just yet. Not until he was ready to just let things roll of his back. But he'd work up to it. Go back to working out. Go back to all the things he loved. There was nothing that could stop him now.

_____

Christmas was cold, but not white. Dave didn't care. He and his dad did their best to mimic the traditions they'd been doing his entire life, and his dad seemed to be trying to make up for the difference with more presents than Dave actually needed. At least he and Sebastian would have new video games to play.

And then Dave went to his room, shut his door, and called his mother. 

 

_”Hello?”_

“Hi Mom.”

_”David?”_

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Silence. Silence that stretched out over the seconds, until she finally spoke. _“Merry Christmas, David. I didn't think you would call.”_

Neither did he, but here he was. He skipped over the remark. No need to get into that, or they'd be here all night. “I just wanted to wish you a happy holiday.”

_”Well, it would be happier if I wasn't on my own.”_

This was why he hadn't wanted to call. “Mom, I don't want to get into all of this now. Not today?”

 _”If not today, then when, David? Neither you nor your father will ever let me say my piece. Honestly, David, the way you behave, gallivanting about with **that boy.** I swear-”_

“Merry Christmas, Mom.” Dave repeated, and hung up. He was sure she would call back, but he wasn't going to answer. He'd done his duty as her son. Now it was time to go see _'that boy.'_

____

Sebastian answered the door in a red sweater with flashing lights, and reindeer antlers. A sprig of mistletoe had been precariously tied to the antlers with an excessive amount of tinsel. Dave caught himself thinking that he looked beautiful anyway.

“I would just like to go on record as saying this is entirely Bianca's fault. And as my Christmas present to my family always includes pretending to like them for 24 hours, she got away with it. I'm not-”

Dave kissed him. Dave kissed him like he was oxygen and Dave was drowning.

They weren't romantics. Barring one overly embarrassing song, neither of them was prone to grand gestures. But as Sebastian led Dave up the stairs, thoughts ran through Dave's head like poetry. He'd never been so in love before. He'd never felt so light, so fantastic. They tumbled into bed together in a well-practiced motion, and this time, Dave did not let himself feel fear. He'd conquered the outside world. He'd conquered his mother. Neither had been pleasant. Now it was time to conquer a fear he might actually enjoy.

There was a barrier that Dave had not allowed himself to cross. It made no sense, but to the mental block in his head, kissing and hand holding and I love yous were fine, but anything further fell into the big scary box labeled 'GAY.' As if it would all be no big deal, as long as he turned back before anything big happened. Because once he took that final step, there would be no turning back. He couldn't pretend anymore.

He didn't _want_ to pretend anymore. 

Sebastian's skin was soft, and that was familiar. For one, he'd touched it before, and for another, Brittany had the same smooth, flawless, flat stomach, though Sebastian's gave way to the dips and grooves of muscles. Familiar and yet different. Safe, and yet terrifying. Dave pushed forward, bit by bit, until he had bared himself before Sebastian, and Sebastian before him. And then he took a breath, and looked. 

There was a moment where they both froze. Sebastian, because he'd been lost in the moment, and it had only just clicked that they were now further than they'd ever been, and Dave, because Sebastian was still beautiful. And he wondered how he could ever have been afraid of him. How he could ever have been afraid of being this close, and this in love, and wanting so much to just reach out and touch him.

So he did.

It lasted forever, and was over too fast. It was intense and raw, and it was soft and endearing. He didn't feel fat or awkward. Well, he did, but only for a moment. Once Sebastian had reached for him and they pressed together, all of that was gone. How could he focus on it, when Sebastian was in all of his senses? Sebastian was everything, and Dave wanted to devour him.

He did panic a little, once it was all over. It was kind of impossible not to. He'd pushed all the terror to the back of his mind, but it still existed. It still lingered, and he found himself pulling the covers over both of them. It was one thing to look at Sebastian in that moment of heat and warmth and love, and another to see him when all his emotions were crashing back down. There was no changing it now. No calling his mom and telling her she was right, that he could be normal again. He could never be normal again, not knowing how it could feel when you loved someone. He was scared for all of a moment, before Sebastian reached for him again. Sebastian knew him, could read him inside and out. He would never leave Dave to dwell alone in the fear, not ever again. This time, Sebastian climbed over him, sprawled across Dave's chest in all his long-limbed glory, and whispered promises against his skin.

The second time was easier. Less scary. Longer, too, since they'd barely paused for breath, and were still recovering. He didn't feel alone, or scared. He felt... perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't _think_ the scene at the end requires bumping up the rating, I've read more explicit sex in published YA novels, but if it does please let me know!


	8. Safe And Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys! Final chapter! Thank you for taking this journey with me!

Things did not stay perfect. They had a few weeks of it, though. Dave would come home for weekends and they would curl up together and drink each other in. Then, in the second week of February, Sebastian came to campus for the weekend instead. They were pointedly avoiding Valentine's day, since neither of them was the romantic type, so they'd made their plans for the week before. It was a disaster from the start.

Dave had gotten used to Joey. He did _try_ to tone down the slurs when Dave was around, but it was a bad habit he'd yet to fully break. He was supposed to be heading home for the weekend, but he was still packing when Sebastian showed up.

“Yo! You must be the boyfriend! Hot choice, Dave my man! No homo.” He added, as an afterthought in Sebastian's general direction. And it all went downhill from there.

“Excuse me?”

Joey waved in Sebastian's general direction. “You know. 'No Homo'. You're hot and all, but not in, like, a gay way.” He glanced up towards Dave, actually paying attention to the conversation for once. “Shit, is that one of those things I'm not supposed to say? Sorry.”

Before Dave could answer, Sebastian started in again. “And what, exactly, is wrong with 'like, a gay way?'”

“Nothing! It's just that I ain't. So I just-”

“Just thought you'd make sure I didn't get the wrong idea and start creeping on you?”

“Man, that's not what I-”

“Sebastian, he said sorry, let's just let it go.” Dave knew Sebastian had a problem with the way Joey spoke, but they'd talked about it before, and he'd seemed to understand no harm was meant. Joey really was a thousand times better than he'd been back in the beginning of the first semester.

Sebastian seemed to bristle even further at Dave's words, straightening himself up with a cold, cocky expression that gave Dave high school flashbacks. “How do you put up with this all the time, Dave? Do you just let him talk to you like that?”

Joey looked from Dave to Sebastian, and then hastily shoved his pillow into his bag. “You know what, Dave, I'm just gonna head out. Call me when your girlfriend's off the-” He paused, face screwing up into a guilty expression. “Shit, not supposed to say that either. Sorry, dude, but I'm still out.”

“You-” Dave slammed a hand over Sebastian's mouth before he could dig the hole deeper, and Joey took that as his cue to leave. He was just in time, too, since Sebastian bit Dave.

“Ow! What the hell, Sebastian?” Dave shook his hand, wincing at the sting. 

“Don't ever do that again.” Sebastian growled. “Jesus Christ, Dave, I was just trying to defend you.”

“Defend me from what? Joey is an idiot, but he's not malicious, and in case you didn't notice, he _apologized._ ”

Sebastian glared at the floor for a long moment, a moment in which Dave almost wanted to apologize himself, even though he'd done nothing wrong. Then he seemed to soften, hunching in on himself. “Whatever. Never mind. Let's just not worry about it. What's the plan this weekend?”

The first part of the plan was to shuffle past the awkwardness. With the heavy silence in the air, it was unlikely either of them would have a great weekend, but Dave was not a man of words. He didn't know what to say to bring things back to the way they were supposed to be, so he reached for Sebastian, pulled him back onto the creaky dorm mattress, and tried to use his actions to fix things instead.

The night was quiet, with the nothing but the sound of breathing and the noises of intimacy, noises that Dave had long since memorized. In the morning, he still felt weird, though, and Sebastian still wore a long, withdrawn expression. It made Dave's skin crawl. He barely smiled during breakfast, and he wouldn't meet Dave's eyes. Whatever was wrong, it refused to be fixed with affection and intimacy. 

He wasn't going to give up yet, though. Sebastian had never before had trouble speaking his mind, he would tell Dave when he was ready, surely, but Dave would do his best to keep him occupied until then. He dragged Sebastian all across campus, showing him his favorite places to study, the things in the cafeteria that didn't make your stomach twist into knots, and even a little secluded place in the library where he kissed Sebastian until he thought he would stop breathing. Sebastian was quiet. The whole thing was making Dave desperate.

Dave's favorite club only met on alternating Saturdays, but today was one of them. He'd hoped that it would cheer Sebastian up, but it only seemed to make him creep further from his strange stillness into anger. When one of Dave's gym friend's showed up and high fived him, Sebastian nearly crawled into his skin in his attempt to sit closer, and when Harry, who was a near perfect replica of Kurt Hummel, started to talk about an issue he'd had on campus, Sebastian outright _snickered_ at the slight lisp to his voice. It was a soft sound, not so loud as to reach Harry's ears, but Mary three seats over shot Dave a startled, offended look, and he flushed and reached down to give Sebastian's hand a warning squeeze. Sebastian let him keep his hand, but turned, met his gaze, and rolled his eyes.

It had been a long time since Sebastian was cruel. He was still sarcastic, still snarky and just a bit stuck up, but he was no longer cruel. He was more likely to laugh with you than at you, though he still didn't let a moment of stupidity slide, and Dave no longer had to worry that someone would try to slip arsenic into Sebastian's drink.

Likewise, it had been a long time since Dave saw red. He was too busy these days. Dealing with anxiety and school and love all took up too much of his time for him to take a moment to be angry.

They must have been overdue.

After the meeting ended, Dave didn't stick along to chat. He hurried towards his dorm, Sebastian following along with a pinched expression. For one awful moment, Dave found himself thinking he looked like a weasel. It was not the kind of thing he was used to thinking about his boyfriend, and the fact that he didn't feel as guilty as he probably should have was unsettling. 

Alone in his dorm room, the rage simmered under Dave's reddened cheeks. Sebastian pretended not to notice, though he was shooting Dave suspicious looks from the corner of his eyes. “Jesus, you do that every week? Do you enjoy slow suffering?” Sebastian pronounced the 'S' sound with a thicker lisp than Harry actually had, drawing out the noise until Dave wanted to punch him. _That,_ at least, got the guilt he'd expected, though it didn't soothe his irritation.

“And those jock types are all over you,” Sebastian continued, waving his arms in a vague gesture that Dave didn't fully get. “Like they want to pin you down and suck your muscle out through your dick. I can't tell if they're jealous or horny.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sebastian at least had the good sense to look startled, if not actually ashamed. He bristled a bit, drawing up to his full height, but while he may have been taller, it was barely, and Dave was broader. Sebastian's full height wasn't enough to intimidate him.

“What the fuck is wrong with _me?_ Are you fucking serious right now? Your roommate is an insensitive homophobe, which you allow-”

“It's not like I control-”

“And of course, you've been off gallivanting with a bunch of walking six-packs-”

“Wait, _what_?”

“And not once did you think to mention to me about Mr. 'Roids and you two bulking out at the campus gym-”

Dave stared at him, completely baffled. “Wait, are you seriously accusing me of cheating right now? _Me?”_ He had known Sebastian long enough now that he recognized the tiny flash of shame that came over his face, but Sebastian quickly shoved that back down in favor of a stormy expression.

“Oh, don't act like you're above it all. Helmet Hair did it, and it's amazing he could even pull his head out of Hummel's ass long enough to find someone. I wouldn't be surprised.”

It should have fed the anger, but all Dave felt was hurt. In another life, he might have spat out a line about how Sebastian was more likely to stray, but the David Karofsky who bullied and fought and hurt no longer existed. In his place was just Dave. Just a teenaged boy who was desperately, hopelessly in love, and lost. “Wow.” That was all he could manage to say. Just that one word, filling the empty room, and Sebastian looked furious.

“Wow? Is that all you can say? Come on, David, I know you know bigger words than that.”

It struck him, finally, exactly what was happening. Sebastian _wanted_ him angry, he wanted him to pick a fight, and Dave wasn't sure why, but he wasn't going to give him one. He was better than that. They both were. He dropped onto the bed, hands relaxed in his lap, tension slowly ebbing from his shoulders, and just stared at his boyfriend. “What's this about?”

There was a challenge in Sebastian's eyes, but he looked wary. He was starting to pick up on the fact that Dave wasn't going to rise to his bait. “This is about you and your loser harem-”

“Sebastian.” 

Sebastian's face dropped. The wind rushed from his sales as he seemed to shrink. Sebastian could rant for hours, given the right prodding, but without it he looked just as lost as Dave felt.

“Sebastian, what's this _really_ about?”

“I got into NYU.”

Dave's heart stopped. Had they talked about this? Had they ever even mentioned college to each other? He knew, in the abstract sense, that Sebastian would be graduating soon, but he'd pushed what that meant into the back of his mind. He'd just assumed that Sebastian would go to school nearby, that things would continue as they were. Maybe he would even go to OSU, and they could room together. That was what he'd thought, when he'd bothered to think about it at all. Mostly, he'd pretended it wasn't happening, because deep down he knew Sebastian would never stick around in Ohio.

“NYU.”

That tiny flash of guilt from earlier grew, spread across Sebastian's face until his whole being just looked exhausted. “It was my first choice. I've always wanted to get out, Dave, you knew that.”

He had, but he hadn't realized at the time exactly what that meant. And maybe he could have handled it, but Sebastian had never once told him about NYU.

“You're here, with all these gorgeous guys, and I'm going to be in New York.” Sebastian continued. “You can't tell me you won't be tempted. Because apparently, anyone can get bored.”

“Why didn't you tell me you applied?”

“I didn't think I'd get accepted.” Sebastian had dropped his gaze, and was refusing to meet his eyes. With a start, Dave realized that he was lying. It left a sour taste in his mouth, and he swallowed heavily before he spoke.

“Did you even look at schools around here?”

There was a long pause. Dave knew the answer already, but Sebastian said it anyway. “No. I only applied to schools in the city.”

Slowly but surely, anger started to trickle back in. “And you didn't think maybe you should mention it to me?”

“You might have tried to stop me.” Another lie, or at least Dave hoped it was.

“You're supposed to know me better than that.” He accused, pushing off the bed to draw himself back up to his full height. He couldn't stand having Sebastian looking down on him, not now, not after this revelation. “You're supposed to know that I wouldn't hurt you like that.” Sebastian flinched. It was clear to Dave that he knew he'd been caught again.

“I didn't want to hurt you.” Sebastian finally admitted. Maybe it should have calmed him down, but really it just made everything worse.

“So what, you thought you'd come here and make me hate you and somehow that would hurt less?”

Sebastian looked up to meet his eyes again, a bit of the old fire rekindling. He'd wanted a fight, and now he had one. He'd officially cut too deep, and Dave could no longer stop himself. “Maybe I'm just tired of not saying what I'm feeling.” 

“There's a difference between saying what you feel and being a dick.”

Sebastian barked out a laugh, throwing his arms wide. “Oh, look at the pot calling the kettle black. You're a walking bundle of anger issues, and the only reason you haven't snapped recently is that I've been keeping you distracted. You'll jump at any chance to throw a fit.”

“Are you _kidding_ me? I have been so calm with you it's not even funny. I didn't call you out in front of everyone, did I? That's not me, not anymore. It hasn't been since...” Since Sebastian had walked into the hospital room with a fistful of stolen flowers. Maybe before that, he'd stopped being a bully, but it was that day when he realized that reacting so quickly to everything had never done him any favors.

“Maybe I'm just tired.” Sebastian finally said, after a long pause where he seemed to struggle with the words in his mouth. “Maybe I'm sick of seeing you twice a month while you're here spending time with homophobes and Hummel clones. Maybe I'm sick of waiting around. Maybe I just want my life to start.”

Sebastian didn't say it, but the words hung heavily in the air until Dave clarified for him. “Without me.”

Sebastian looked at him, raw and aching, and when he spoke, even Dave could tell he didn't mean it, but he said it anyway. “We both knew I wasn't made for this. We just clung to it because it felt safe.” He was lying through his teeth. Dave was self-conscious and a bit dense sometimes, but he knew Sebastian and he knew that none of what he was saying was true. But he was willing to say it anyway, and somehow, that was worse.

“Then maybe you should leave.” It killed him to say. It cracked Dave's heart right in two. It was the only thing he _could_ say, though. Sebastian was willing to lie to Dave's face and say horrible, hurtful things about their relationship, all because he couldn't handle their impending separation. Dave was an expert at self-destruction. If that was what Sebastian wanted, he wasn't going to help him.

They looked at each other. Time stretched out, hours and hours in that one moment where their eyes met.

And then Sebastian grabbed his bag, and left.

_____

Dave spent two weeks on autopilot. The first day that passed without a word from Sebastian, he spent curled in bed, moping. He could think of a thousand ways he should have fixed things, but he was well-trained by his therapist not to dwell on the past. So, though heavyhearted, on the second day, he forced himself out of bed. If he could just keep moving, keep doing his homework, keep studying, keep working out, he didn't have to think about it. Sebastian had never explicitly said that they were over, but he also hadn't called. Refusing to think about it was probably not the healthiest way to handle his first break up, but it was better than dwelling. 

He allowed himself one moment of weakness: on the ninth day he texted Sebastian. _I still love you._ If Sebastian did something about it, great. But Dave was not going to sit around making himself miserable and waiting for text messages that weren't coming. Instead, he went to his therapist, and then to the gym.

He'd never realized how much of his life was taken up by Sebastian. By talking to him, by texting him, by thinking about him. Dreams were the worst. He couldn't control or ignore dreams. They came unbidden, with flashes of Sebastian's creamy skin and the freckles that dotted his shoulders, or of the way he laughed at bad movies and let Dave win at Halo when he was feeling affectionate. Dave couldn't escape Sebastian when he slept, and as the days counted down, it crept into his waking life, along with the anxiety that wriggled under his flesh every time he checked the calendar.

On Thursday, February 21st, 2013, Dave didn't go to class. His therapist, had she known, might have called it a 'slip' (Or not, he could never predict her), but Dave thought that he'd done well enough to earn the break. He'd been fighting his anxiety and working though his problems all year. Today, he wanted to collapse. Normally, he was doing well, but looking at the calendar just made him think of the way the belt had tightened around his neck, and he'd been so afraid and so relaxed. 

It wasn't like the thoughts didn't get to him on a normal day. From time to time, they crept back in. He didn't wear belts anymore, for starters, though he could at least go into his closet again without melting down. Sometimes, his skin felt tight and hot, like he was going to burst out of it if he didn't find a way to relieve the pressure. However, for the most part, he was doing fine. Today was just too much, on top of the fact that the only messages on his phone were sympathy texts from Kurt. He was miles away from his dad, with no contact from Sebastian, and no therapy appointment until March. He could do this, he could get through, but he would do it his way, progress be damned. He shooed Joey off to lunch without him and hid his face in his pillow. He hadn't even gotten dressed. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and not think about the way his breathing strained and stuttered but he felt so secure, because soon it was going to be over. He tried instead to think of the pain that came later whenever he spoke, the panic at the idea of actually dying.

Someone knocked on the door.

For a moment, Dave considered not answering, but then a second knock came, more insistent than the first. He hauled himself out of bed, rubbing at his tired eyes and pulling it open. 

Sebastian looked like shit. His eyes were red and puffy, with heavy shadows, and he'd left his hair to flop around his forehead instead of styling it away from his face like usual. A fresh ketchup stain dotted his collar, as if he'd been eating in a hurry.

“I'm an asshole.”

Somewhere in Dave's brain was a joke about 'Captain Obvious.' He wisely kept it to himself, instead silently gesturing for Sebastian to come in and shutting the door behind him. 

“I'm an asshole.” Sebastian repeated once they were alone. “I didn't want to tell you I was only applying to New York colleges because I knew if you got upset, even if you tried to hide it, I was going to break and apply to OSU. My mother would have been thrilled because she nets me free tuition, but I would have hated it, as much as I would have loved to see you every day. And then once I got in, I didn't know how to tell you. I was angry at myself, and a little angry at you-” Dave must have looked surprised, because Sebastian hurried to explain. “I knew it wasn't your fault, but I was angry at you for making me want to be here. It was really irrational. And I guess I thought if I made you made about stupid stuff, you'd either not be so mad about NYU, or you'd break up with me and then I wouldn't have to worry about you doing it while I was gone.”

Sebastian paused for a moment, an embarrassed flush settling over his cheeks. “And I was jealous.” He admitted, glancing away. “You have this entire life here. I think I got used to being the center of your universe over the summer, and I got here and you had all these friends and these attractive gay men fawning over you-” Dave bit back a laugh, because Sebastian's habit of melodrama and exaggeration would always be funny, “And I was going to be in New York, while you were here. Just like Kurt and Blaine.”

That was less funny. He'd spent the past few weeks hurting, but it was still instinct to reach out and pull Sebastian into his arms. Sebastian went willingly, wrapping around him like he'd never left. “I would never do that to you.” Dave promised.

“I know,” Sebastian said, voice muffled by Dave's shoulder. “But I couldn't make myself believe it. And when you told me to leave, I figured it was better for you. I hated it, you have to believe me. I've spent every waking moment since I left kicking myself, but I was so sure I was doing the right thing. And then I saw the calendar, and all I could think was that I left you alone. I told you I loved you and then I abandoned you, and I remembered what day it was. I don't think I'll ever forget it.” Sebastian pulled back, wiping at his eyes, which shone with a thick dampness Dave politely pretended he didn't see. Sebastian cleared his throat, meeting Dave's gaze, as if trying to project just how serious he was. “You should never be alone today. I don't care if we're fighting. I don't care if we're 50 years old, and divorced, and living in separate countries, and we hate each other. I'll fly in from Paris, and you won't be alone.”

Neither Dave nor Sebastian liked to get emotional in front of people, although Dave tended to have less of a choice in the matter, thanks to the occasional panic. However, since Sebastian was tearing up again, Dave figured he wasn't likely to judge, and he let himself cry. He tugged Sebastian back to him, hating even the inch of distance between them. “You're an asshole.” He agreed, choking on a laugh. From the way Sebastian's shoulders shook, he'd done the same. “You're an asshole, but I knew that from the start. I shouldn't have asked you to leave. Because I love you, as crazy as that seems sometimes, and I'm never going to make that mistake again.”

“You can't just handcuff yourself to me.” Sebastian pointed out, a trace of his usual sarcasm creeping in. “Well, you can, but only in the bedroom.”

This time, Dave's laughter was real. It was amazing how normal things could feel again, just from a sly comment here or there. “There are trains. I'll come visit you every other weekend, just like now.”

“It'll be more expensive.”

“So's buying you chicken nuggets 8 times a week, I think we'll manage.”

“You wouldn't have to, if you didn't suck so hard at video games.”

Things were never going to be easy for Dave. They never had been. He would never be able to undo the things that had damaged him. He was never going to change his mom, or the strangers on the street. He would always be a little more aware of the way people looked at him, always be prone to that moment of second-guessing himself. He was never going to forget climbing onto a chair in his closet. There would be days when he would have to count cracks in the ceiling just to get himself breathing again, and that was never going to go away. But it was going to get _better._ He had people who loved him, and he knew now how to keep going. Things were going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, realism was very important to me when writing this (I got a bit carried away. The day Dave goes to OSU? That was the actual move-in day in 2012). The last thing I wanted was to write another story where getting a boyfriend solves your depression. I really wanted to make it clear that Dave was getting better before Sebastian ever kissed him, through a combination of having a killer support system made up of friends and family, and good old fashioned therapy. That's also one of the reasons I had them break up for a little: It meant I got to show that yes, Dave was upset by their breakup, but he was capable now of coping mechanisms, and able to keep moving his life forward, instead of just collapsing. 
> 
> At the same time, I didn't want to do what the show did and go 'He's all better now!' At the end of Breathing, Dave is doing so much better than he was during On My Way. But he'll carry that with him for the rest of his life, it's not something that will just vanish. But it's manageable. He has a good life ahead of him, and he can finally enjoy it.
> 
> I have depression. I have self-harm tendencies, and when I was a high school senior like Dave, (Funnily enough, the year before On My Way aired, making it very hard to watch), I had some really bad suicidal thoughts. I'm doing so much better now, and I relished the opportunity to show someone else going through the same thing. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: The working title for this fic was 'How Karofsky Got His Groove Back.'


End file.
